In undergraduate school, I used to sit next to this guy in one of my German classes. He had really long, dark hair and a pleasant-enough personality. He was into Dungeons and Dragons and sci-fi. One day as I raised my hand to answer a question posed by my professor, he leaned over and quietly told me that I had -- and I quote -- "hot armpit meat."
Now, granted, I'm not one to judge anyone for their personal fetishes, and I'd personally run a small gamut of my own by this time; however, this was the first time I'd personally encountered anyone who not only considered armpits highly sexual, but also had an objectifying term for them. Beyond that, I was not interested in this human on a sexual level at all, and our interactions, as far as I could interpret, hadn't suggested as much.
Self-conscious, I immediately put my hand back down, participation grade be damned! I didn't want to leave my armpit hanging out there for him to fantasize about. What would that fantasy even be?
Oh shit, did this dude wanna fuck my armpit?
And if he fucked my armpit, would it be in English or German? Or maybe both, code-switching as things began to intensify? Did he like a newly washed armpit, or was he into the primal pheromones at the end of a desert summer day? Did he always have a thing for armpits, or did my armpit -- in all its meaty glory -- just suddenly spark something he never even knew existed? Would he want to use lotion or lube of some sort? What about stubble??
So many questions. So no interest whatsoever in discovering the answers.
But hey, when I think about it now, it was actually a really nice compliment.
In Case You Were Wondering . . .
Sometimes Ronnie D writes funny stuff. Sometimes she writes desperate teenage prose. Most times she just slams her feeble, little woman-hand onto the keyboard in an attempt to feel something, anything.