Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Weird Things I Find Erotic

Fabric Softener - I have a very very bizarre thing with fabric softener, especially Downy. It turns me on more than any cologne you could wear. If you walk by me and your clothes smell like Downy, I will immediately start to think you are the sexiest person on Earth, even if you look like a troll. I think this goes back to the days of pedo-George. He always smelled like Downy, and I think I started to associate Downy with sex because of it. Now I'm like one of Pavlov's dogs - I smell Downy, I start salivating. It's distracting. I can't have it in my house. I once bought a bottle of Downy to wash my own clothes with because I like it so much, but then I spent most of my time sniffing my sleeves and daydreaming about wild sex in a bed shaped like a laundry basket. I wasn't getting any work done. But my clothes were always clean from doing laundry every day.

Hair brushing - I love, love, love it when I can talk someone else into brushing my hair. The height of this weirdness was when I had really really long hair in high school and college. I had this insanely long hair that went all the way down my back, so when someone would brush my hair it was like a massage. It doesn't sound that weird on the surface, but just wait till you're in the heat of the moment and someone asks you what would turn you on, and you say "Mmmmm, brush my hair." See how they look at you. Go ahead, try it. Pretty weird now, ain't it? It's not that big of a deal now since I cut it all off right after college, but sitting here writing this and thinking about it makes me want to go out and get extensions put in...

Crying - or rather, my own crying. Don't you start crying; that would make me uncomfortable. Really, I hate when other people cry, especially people I care about, because I don't want them to ever be sad. But when I'm sad, whoa! Lookout! My theory is that this is an extreme of emotion thing, that I'm twisting around in my sick sick mind. But for me, despair = sex. When I'm crying so hard I can't speak, yeah, that's a good time to hit on me. Doesn't happen as much now since they put me on the happy drugs, but stick around. Bad luck follows me, so a disaster is bound to befall me sooner or later.

People I don't get along with - I have a very destructive habit of becoming attracted to people I generally can't stand. It reminds me of Banky's line in Chasing Amy about not being in love with every girl he's slept with, "Some of them I downright loathe." Yeah, that's me. This tends to work best with those of the gentlemanly persuasion, who seem in general to be less concerned about genuinely liking the people they sleep with (I don't mean to stereotype guys, but you've got to admit I have a point). I once had a torrid affair with a guy I worked with, who was the most ornery, antagonistic mother fucker I've ever had the displeasure to know. We had crazy monster sex that left me injured for about 12 days. To this day I can't stand the guy. But, damn. I mean...just...damn.

Supply closets - Actually, I don't really find supply closets erotic per se, I just seem to frequently end up inside of them in compromising positions. I was in a supply closet with a kid in the drama club with me in high school, the supply closet of my old house (before I had curtains), the supply closet at the pool when I was a lifeguard, the supply closet at the factory where I did the payroll (with that guy I hated) and several more that I can't think of off the top of my head. I have no idea what the deal is with this, but I think it may be a part of the reason I've never slept with anyone at my current job; we just don't have big enough supply closets. We do have a guy that always smells like fabric softener though, and a guy I don't get along with, so who knows? I am here another couple of months...

6 comments:

amberance said...

Eric,

welcome to my bathtub of love...

amberance said...

It's hard to say. Mary thinks I chased them all away with my "Short Conversations" post. She says it's a classic case of a successful writer straying from type. I think they are mad that I made fun of their weirdo sex comments and are punishing me by not posting any more, which is unfair, because I really thought they were great in a WTF? sort of way. But hey, I'm happy to write just for you. Think of me as your own personal blog-whore.

Pronto said...

Hey, don't forget about little-ole-me.

Think of it as a three-some of sorts......

amberance said...

Pronto, sweetie, how could I forget you? I've actually been wondering where you've been...

Pronto said...

Busy, busy, busy, of course......

Sometimes it sux to be me, and sometimes it doesn't.
Unfortunately, the latter doesn't happen often enough.

Sigh - wanna join me in a pity party?

:-)

amberance said...

Count me in Pronto baby!