Thursday, December 01, 2005

Know what I hate?

When I'm taking a late night shower to prepare to go to my husband's late night hockey game so that his late night friends won't think I'm a late night skanky whore.

And I pull open the curtain and step out of the shower to find that my towel isn't hanging in its customary place.

Because it was used as a cum rag after a late night tryst.

And all the other towels are in the linen closet. In the hall. Across from the six-foot-high window that looks out over the enlisted housing complex.

And I'm freezing.

So I wrap myself in the robe my husband has had since high school and washed as often as his jock strap.

And I'm instantly right back to smelling like a late night skanky whore.

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