My Instincts

Ever since I sat down and had a talk with my instincts we've been on the same page. I let my instincts take over in my careful selection of friends. Drooling is a red flag. Not allowing me to contradict you is thumbs down. But someone with nice fingernails is in.
If I'm at a restaurant and the food comes too fast, my instincts say not much time was spent preparing it. The only time my instinct let me down was with Anastasia.
We met at a Save the Whales demonstration in front of the Japanese embassy. I was drawn to her dark, intense Scarlett O'Hara looks and her powerful forearms. Her fiery rhetoric excited me, plus she had exquisite fingernails.
Things were great between us for a long time. Then Robert, the scrub brush salesman, ruined us. I came home early one day to find him scrub brushing naked Anastasia. My instinct said kill him right there. But the intense sound of brush against skin was arousing.
I am ashamed of what happened next. No details. This is not that kind of blog. Perhaps one must ignore instinct and take each case individually. Trust impulse. Remember, instinct made Hitler invade Russia and we saw how that went down.