Survivor: Hawaii

The Band Teacher paid me a visit today, and I survived first contact.

"Hey, I'm going to come up to your house now. I'm like 20 seconds away."

"OK, I was just about to pee, so wait for me."

When I got out of the bathroom, the Band Teacher was already here. She just finished working out at the gym down the street. We hadn't had a chance to sit down and chat since May, so it was mostly just catching up.

We went over the usual topics: How was our school doing. How was college. What are her plans after college. Etc, etc.



Now for you female readers, I'll let you in on a secret. The average male couldn't care less about how you did in college or your future plans. It's a ruse. A smokescreen. We know a woman's favorite topic is herself, so we offer the easy bait. The real reason we ask, or feign interest, is so that you don't see what we're really concentrating on.



The Band Teacher was wearing a black baby-tee kind of top while she worked out. I think it picked up a bunch of lint from her towel. There was enough lint to throw me into an OCD fit. I was just about to get up to grab some tape to remove the lint when she started laughing. Luckily I stopped before I did a weird impression of a grooming monkey.



However, it was then that I notice a strand of her hair had come to rest just above her left boob. I instinctively reached out to grab it... the hair... when I caught myself.

"I don't think I want to be grabbing your boob."

*thinks*

"No wait. I do want to be grabbing your boob."

So with the dexterity of the Gray Mouser, I removed the strand of hair without contacting a supple breast. Not sure if I should cheer or jeer on that one.

"There. Just like Pick-Up-Sticks."



Then we shot the shit a bit more. She looked at the dog, but didn't give him a boner. Then the topic went to needles.



This girl, who was always cocksure, fears needles. I told her she was lucky she wasn't me when she was growing up. Besides being an ugly toad, I had to get regular injections for every conceivable medical condition known to man.

She explained how bad it was when she had to get her cavities checked out... in her mouth. Such a statement by itself isn't too funny. However, she thought that I was thinking dirty thoughts, and quickly added in the "in my mouth," part after she noticed the double entendre. She then tried to explain it away by saying how the English language screwed up with the word "cavity."



Me, I was wondering why she was trying to explain the obvious. Of course cavities are found in the mouth. Where do you think you find them? Up your ass?

I also discovered an interesting scientific fact. I would have never learned this is the Band Teacher did not stand upwind from me.

I had ridden my motorcycle earlier in the day while wearing full leathers. I also got caught in the rain while riding. I came home and cleaned and oiled my leathers. I was sweaty. I smelled like carrion. (not really, but hyperbole for effect)



The Band Teacher was working out on cardio and lifting weights for two hours. She did not shower, nor changed her clothes before visiting me. Yet, she smelled good. It may be an oddity of science that would require a team of researchers with millions of dollars in grants to figure this out, but the Band Teacher's sweat smelled like April freshness. Strange.

Then it was time for her to leave. She had things to do, like shower, and I had to head out for a bicycle ride.

One thing I cannot figure out about women: why do they insist on playing with dead spiders?