First let me start off by saying that I love my girlfriend. I'd also like to say that I will never make fun of the four hairs that are on her big toe ever again.
My lady comes over last night and we play some catch up on the couch. She kicks off her shoes and she fills me in with the goings-on of her day. She sprawls out on the couch and uses me, her man, as if I was her otto-man. We talk, we laugh, and I rub her feet as she tells me all about her trip to Canada and all the wacky adventures she went on. As she's blabbering on about the phallic shaped rocks she found on the beach, my eyes catch a glimpse of the redwood forest of black hairs protruding from her big toe.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa...hold up." I stop her. "What the hell is this all about, Frodo?"
"Um, what?" She hates it when I refer to her as characters from film trilogies.
"You got hairy ass toes!"
"What are you talking about? Shut up." She finds her place in the story she was spitting. "So I found this shiny black rock and I put it in my..."
"No. Um, what gives? I see you shaved your legs, right?"
"Right."
"After you spent that time shaving your legs, didja just look at your toes and say...Fuck these toes?"
"Shut up I'm trying to tell you a story."
"Whatever Gorilla-foot."
I've found my bit for the evening. I have an uncanny ability to turn whatever someone is saying into the bit I latch onto for the night.
7 Minutes later.
"It took forever for us to take off; the flight attendant had the longest list of rules to follow..."
"You are definitely one to toe the line...hairy toe the line." My abilities of funniness are unparalleled.
15 minutes later.
"So then my friend Ryan got me these Elvis Presley Matryoshka Stacking Dolls..."
"You and Elvis have a lot in common. Know what Elvis had under his Blue Suede shows...hairy toes." I'm a genius.
23 minutes later.
"Rectum, damn near killed him!"
"You have hairy fucking toes." I'm a master of wordplay.
It was about this time that she announced that its time to go to bed. I walk to my room, girlfriend in hand and with a smile that would make the Cheshire Cat say..."Damn, that’s a big fucking smile."
"Bigfoot coming through." I yell as she enters my room.
"Oh, you're funny." She laughs to herself. "You are sooo gonna get it."
We disrobe and hit the sack...I ain't getting no booty tonight. She is all the way on the other side of the bed careful not to make any contact with me.
"Babe?" I ask. "Can you stop moving, your toe hairs are tickling my legs."
"Stop, it’s not funny anymore."
"No, your hairy digits aren't funny anymore." I jump out of bed and grab my electric razor. "Give me those tootsies."
She scream-laughs and pleads but it of no use and I grab her foot and shave off all 4 blonde and black hairs from her big toe. She's kicking and screaming and crying from laughter as I grab the other foot and start the shedding.
"There. Shorn toes. So lady like. I ain't sleeping in bed with no woman who walks around with hairy talons. Now, get to sleepin'. You shaved bitch! Shaven bastard!" I Cheshire smile.
"OK, honey. Yes, sir. You just go sleep..." She's never looked so devilish.
I fall asleep within 10 minutes; my last hurrah is playing "Cut Your Hair" by Pavement as my sleep soundtrack.
Now, when I sleep, my arms are usually tucked under my head in some way. If I'm on my belly then my arms are tucked under my pillow. If I'm on my back, or side, my arm is tucked under my head. Good, because it’s comfortable, bad because I leave my underarms exposed. Give a hairy-toed woman a hole and she will exploit it.
It's 2AM and I'm on my back when I wake up with my arms pinned behind my head, with her knees on top of my elbows in a 69-esque position. Groggily the sleep leaves my eyes and they come in fine focus on my girl with a Cheshire smile and my Norelco Razor in her hands.
She attacks my left armpit with the speed and precision of old Irish sheep shearer. What was once a plush land of curlies, sweat and dried deodorant is now a smooth, and possibly bleeding barren patch of sensitive skin. I laugh on the outside like a little girl, but I'm crying on the inside like an altar boy who just got his butthole massaged by the deacon. With lightning quick speed she attacks the right armpit.
"Not ol' rightie!" I squeal with the opposite of delight.
When rightie is as pre-pubescent as leftie, she places the razor on the night stand, lifts off my elbows...kisses me goodnight and immediately falls asleep.
I'm now left wide awake and shaven...I haven't felt like this since that crazy night in Vegas in '03.
Boyfriends can only be this lucky.
I wipe the hairs from my bed, and with each movement of my arm, my pits burn with burning-burny pain. M'lady fake-snores.
I kiss her on the cheek.
"I love you hairy toes."
"I love you bitch-pits." she mumbles.
Oh WE BLOG, lesson learned: relationships are about compromises.
Will
ps: Right now...my armpits are in pain. Burning pain. Deodarant is the devil.