Sex Tips from Magazines, #2

“She just decided this, one day. The day before that dinner party we had last month, you remember? I talked to Mark about it, her brother-in-law, still in school. Says it’s considered a mark of something, trauma, or an associative thing. That’s how it’s diagnosed. But it’s supposed to be tied to something, not grabbed out of thin air like a goddamn insect. But that day she just picks that chair in the living room, the green one, and decides it’s the sexiest thing we own. The sexiest. And that day I’m all for it, you know, she wants me in that chair and I’m there. But that party? That party was weird, man. Because every time someone’s in that chair she won’t stop touching me. All our friends there and it just gets weird. It’s like some kind of conditioning experiment, people just sort of hovering around the chair unconsciously but no one sitting down. Like that fucking dog, man. Except they have to avoid it to keep things from getting uncomfortable. And we’ve been doing this for a month now, a month of dinner parties where she’s reaching out to friends she hasn’t seen in years just to get people to keep sitting in that chair. Mark says these things’ll last for at least six months, at least. But I can’t do it, man. I can’t eat any more canapés. Shake any more hands. I just don’t get where this came from.” 

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