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About ten thousand years ago, when I was a young woman in my early twenties, I was dating a very sweet young man who loved to see me dress up in sexy lingerie. You know, lace and satin and garter belts and lots of frills, and my hair all frizzed out and curly - kind of like Madonna and Whitesnake both threw up all over me in the local J.C. Penny's women's department. Hey, it was the eighties, so that's how we rolled. I didn't mind, and it made him happy, so I was happy to oblige. Except, after a while, it got a little expensive to keep getting new teddies and shit, so I started to hint around that maybe it would be cool if he bought me something - nothing expensive, but whatever he wanted to see me wear for him.

Oh bitter, bitter irony.

Valentine's Day rolled around - a beautiful early spring day in 1987 - and the boyfriend showed up at my doorstep with a big grin on his face and a HUGE box wrapped in pink paper and bows. It seemed a bit too big for a simple corset or bra/pantie set, but who knows? Maybe he'd bought me a boa or something. So I tore open the wrapping paper, threw off the top of the box, pawed through layers of glittery tissue paper: and pulled out bright red stretchy satin.

And pulled.

And pulled.

And pulled.

And pulled.

Yes, people. My boyfriend had bought me THE WORLDS LARGEST STRETCH SATIN TEDDY. I swear to fucking GOD, this thing would have been large enough to fit Godzilla AND Cloverfield, with enough room left over for King Kong. In the Starship Enterprise. Driving through THE SUN. Now, at that time, I weighed about 106 pounds - I was not a big big girl. So all I can think is that my sweet, well-meaning guy evidently must have wandered into some lingerie department and been so traumatized at the sight of all those pointy bras and silky crotches thrusting from corpse-like mannequins, he must have grabbed the first thing off the rack and thrown it at the cashier. Either that, or he was insane. And blind. Because holy jesus fuck, I was pulling a Christo installation out of this box, that's how much fabric was in this teddy. As far as I know, in some part of Eastern Washington, people are still buried in mounds of cheap stretch lycra crotch, their mummified remains decorated only by hundreds of miles of yellowing lace and fake pearl-covered titty cups.

Anyway, I don't quite recall what I said to him, except it was something wonderful and loving and kind, because I do remember the look on his face. It was one of complete adoration commingled with the sweaty fear that he'd fucked it up somehow and I'd never let him touch me again. I told him it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever received in my life, and I showered him with grateful kisses. Then I kicked the box aside (which was difficult because it weighed, like, a MILLION pounds), and very quickly stripped naked. We never mentioned the teddy again.

The End!

Marine Autumn

I owe you marine autumn
With dankness at its roots
and fog like a grape
and the graceful sun of the country;
and the silent space
in which sorrows lose themselves
and only the bright crown
of joy comes to the surface.

--Pablo Neruda.

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