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Just because David and I had stresses does not mean that I have those
stresses with all my other boyfriends. I admit, at first I was nervous
when I started dating Corn. I *was* a little afraid that he and Rebecca
and I would
fall into the kind of "three-way" energy that David, Mary Anne and I had
had. Not that it's near the same situation, and not that I feel the same
way about Corn that I did about David (that contributed to those stresses
eventually); but it was a fear nonetheless. However, I decided it was
stunting me to assume that things would always follow that dysfunctional
pattern; how narrow a world we'd find ourselves in if we never took these
risks - afraid to take a step because someone else walked there once and
had a bad time of it. So I delved into my friendship with Rebecca and
Corn. And it's been wonderful.
Not to say that Corn and I never have problems. Just last night we had several awkward moments.... (Scene: Corn comes over, a little over an hour late.) Corn: Sorry I'm late; I heard you called. Heather: Yes. Y'know, you could've called *me* and let me know you were going to be an extra hour at rehearsal... Corn: Yeah, I know, but I didn't know that until we were already... Heather: Yeah, that happens. S'ok. (A short time later. Corn has taken off his shoes and shirt and we're beginning to cuddle on the side of the bed.) Heather: (to self: what's that smell? That's gotta be Corn, 'cause that stink wasn't here a minute ago. Hmmmm, well, his neck smells ok...chest is fine. He's still got his pants on, so I don't think it's *that*....what the hell is that stink? He smells like Ojisan! What the hell?) Let me refill the water. Corn: Good idea. (Heather gets water glass and heads to door. She notices his shoes and stops to sniff them surreptitiously). Corn: Do my shoes stink? Heather: (confused) Nooooo.... (Heather returns with water, gagging visibily as the odor from the room hits her again.) Heather: (not mincing words) Ok. What IS that stink? Corn: What stink? It wasn't my shoes...? Heather: No, and it's not (sniffing his torso) you. Oh, wait. Lemmee smell your feet. (Corn lifts one foot and Heather gets too near and breathes in.) Heather: (falling over and waving her hands and collapsing in a coughing fit left over from the flu) Oh my lord. It IS your feet. Corn: Sorry. Heather: You didn't take your shoes off all day long, did you? Corn: No. Does it bother you that much? Heather: Well, I have a mind to make you wash your feet. Corn: Oh. (Heather and Corn start making out again. The smell gets to Heather...) Heather: (getting up) Let me open some windows...it's, uh, warm in here. (She opens every window in her room. It immediately gets too cold, but she ignores it bravely. They continue making out.) Heather: (getting up again) I know! I should light some candles! Corn: Yeah, if you have a scented one it could help combat my foot odor! Heather: Yeah! (Not bloody likely.) (Heather lights many many candles, using an incense stick to get to the hard to light ones.) Heather: Using incense to light the hard to reach wicks is a trick I picked up from Holly. Corn: It's ok. I know you're trying to cover up my foot odor. Heather: Uh...yeah. (They resume making out. Heather gets up AGAIN.) Heather: This swing music doesn't really fit the mood. Corn: Yeah, do you have anything gothy? Heather: Gothy? (She looks dubiously at her eclectic CD collection which is the result of the varying tastes of her boyfriends over the years.) Goth? Corn: Well, all these female vocalists...surely one of them is gothy. (Heather puts in Mazzy Star.) Corn: Ok, folksy is good too. Heather: Sorry. (She remains sitting on the side of the bed, looking worried.) Corn: It's my feet. Heather: Yeah. It really is. I don't want to make you get dressed and go wash them in the bathroom, though.... I don't suppose you'd baby-wipe them for me? (Corn gives her a look she can't read. He picks up the baby wipes and begins running them between his toes.) Heather: (Trying to be lighthearted.) Yeah, floss those toes! Corn: Don't you have any lysol or anything you'd like to spray on my feet? Heather: Sorry, Corn, I must be really sensitive to smells right now or something... (...like hell I am, I'm all stuffed up! I can't imagine what this would be like if my sinuses were clear!). Corn: Is that better? Heather: Um, yeah, just throw those wipes away now....no, I'm not going to take another wiff. (They resume making out, this time rather successfully.) (Later:) Heather: Um, before you get in bed.... Corn: Oh, no. Heather: Here's a towel, there's soap in the dish under the showerhead.... Please? Corn: Are you sure you don't want me to use bleach? Heather: We don't have any bleach .... what? No! Just wash them for me, please? Before you get into bed? I just put on clean sheets! Corn: Don't you have other clean sheets? Heather: Not nice flannel ones. (Corn goes and washes his feet and comes back in the room.) Corn: All better? Heather: All better. Corn: Are you sure you don't need me to strip and refinish your bed? Heather: Oh, stop. Corn: We could take down the drywall just to make sure. Heather: It's not like you smell that bad every time...this is the first time I've noticed. (Corn flops on the bed and the bed gives out a loud moan.) Heather: Um,..... Corn: I need to make you that support. Heather: Yeah, please don't flop on the bed? Corn: We just put a whole lot more weight on it than that! Heather: Please? (The next morning.) Heather: Sorry about that last night... Corn: I'm ok. What's funny is that you're all self-conscious about it. Heather: I feel like such a picky girlfriend. Corn: I can razz you about this for a long time. Heather: Oh. Great.
But at least I stood up for myself, huh? I never had to do anything like that with David because it was a rare occasion that David had any odor at all (he's meticulously clean. I usually like people's scent...it's just the rancid odors that get to me). In fact, I used to complain that David never got sweaty because I like identifying boyfriends by their body scent. Scent. Not odor. In fact, I'm glad this happened because I'm pretty proud of myself for speaking up in the situation (though the odor was really so bad I don't think I could've stood it all night). I found myself muttering to myself last night about married men. I thought one of the benefits was that they were already trained! Of course, Rebecca had told me earlier that night that she'd only been home an hour or so and Corn had been rehearsing that whole time. Not that I expect her to inspect his feet. I just know she'd never put up with a smell like that either. Maybe that's the benefit of having a "single" girlfriend when you're a married man: you don't have to follow all those cleanliness rules your wife has laid down for you. Or you *think* you don't. PS Corn, I still think you're incredibly sexy; only a manly man could make feet stink like that. Maybe next time we can do a shower fantasy scene or something...;-) | ||
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