He Got My Hint

Body odor comes from the apocrine glands, which are small when we’re born and develop substantially during puberty; there are many of them scattered around our armpits, face, chest, genitals, and anus. Some researchers conclude that a large part of our joy in kissing is really a joy in smelling and caressing each other’s face, where one’s personal scent glows. Among far-flung tribes in a number of countries—Borneo, on the Gambia River in West Africa, in Burma, in Siberia, in India—the word for “kiss” means “smell; a kiss is really a prolonged smelling of one’s beloved. -Diane Ackerman
A NATURAL HISTORY OF THE SENSES

Twenty-five years ago today:

May 28, 1987
Thursday

I met Tom Morin, the District PB-Yellow Pages SALES MANAGER of Sacramento today. He was ‘the creep’ that sent me a note ‘way back when’, stating that I wouldn’t fit the bill as a Yellow Page Sales Rep. with the competitive environment out there. What a jerk!

I received a new BENNETON Pullover shirt from Jeff Sombat from Hawaii in the mail (for my Birthday) today. I wrote back to him as well as to Paloma and Eileen today.

I had an exhilarating bike ride after work. I think I have jock itch again. I believe it’s because I wore those bike shorts. I detect a bit of my body odor. The bib shorts I ordered from a bike shop in Marina Del Rey, California. They probably need a good cleaning.

I had lunch with Cedric Green and Freddie today. It was nice. We talked about occurrences (of absence on the job) and disabilities from work (very important subject, Ha-ha). We can’t seem to get around these topics as employees.

I made it to the gym and ‘sure enough’ Scott Lauer was there from the Alameda Naval Station. I find him ‘QBL’ (Questionable) but I cannot be sure.

Stewart Western was also at the gym for a second day in a row. I guess we’re all hyped-up about getting in-shape for summer.

Scott said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I replied.
Then he walked back over to me and said, “You know, I might need a ride back to Alameda tomorrow.”
“Oh sure, I can drive you,” I said happily.
Scott added, “Yeah, I’m going to Wolfgang’s or the Palladium in San Fran tonight.”
I forgot that he’s not twenty-one yet. You can get into those clubs when you are over eighteen. He’s twenty but he looks my age. I was happy about having a better workout tonight compared to yesterday.

Mark Landreth called me when I got home.
“I thought you might have called me because I just got a crank call.”
I laughed, saying, “It wasn’t me.”
“The guy whispered that he was Cindy and wanted to give me a blow job.”
I laughed again, saying, “Well, rest assured it wasn’t me. If I was going to say that I’d just tell you up front.”
He didn’t really react. I don’t think he got my hint (or if he did--he simply remained silent).
Instead, Mark changed the subject and said, “You know, I’m thinking of joining the gym again.”
“You should. If you want…I can inquire about getting you a deal.”
“Okay…do that. I’ll check on Saturday too…then we can compare deals.”
“Sounds good.”

Jeff Sombat called from Hawaii.
“Hey Jeff, I got your shirt. Thanks so much. I really like it!”
“Oh good…I was worried about whether it got there or not.”
“Yes, in fact, I sent you a card about it.”
PHOTO: Mark Landreth and Poison Ivy
at my Christmas Party on December 19, 1987

Oh yes…Mark Landreth also said, “My camping trip was quite an adventure.”
I knew he had gone with Ivy and asked, “Oh how was it?”
“It was really cold and windy. It hailed a little and people’s tents were flying about.”
I couldn’t help but laugh silently.
I said, “Well, maybe it’ll be better next time.”
“Yeah.”
I asked, “How were the sleeping arrangements?”
He didn’t really share any details about Ivy. How boring is that?  I had to dig for more information.
“How did you keep warm?” I asked.
He still didn’t get my hint.
“Or…did you lose your underwear?”
Again, he didn’t disclose any scoop. He didn’t even mention my Birthday. Alas, it’s just another day now, isn’t it?

I tried calling mom at 3:30PM this afternoon but she’d already left for work. I must have just missed her.

When I phoned Eileen Grabinsky we set a date for this Saturday. We plan on going on a picnic with a chilled bottle of Beringer White Zinfandel.
“This will be so much fun,” I said, “We can take a paddle boat on Lake Chabot. You’ll love it!”

While saucy Roman poets like Catullus wrote rigorously sexy poems about affairs with either sex, Ovid wrote charming ones about his robust love of women, how they tormented his soul, and about the roller coaster of flirtations he observed at dinner parties.
“Offered a sexless heaven,” he wrote, “I’d say no thank you, women are such sweet hell.”
In one of his poems, he cautions his mistress that, since they’ve both been invited to the same dinner, He’s bound to see her there with her husband.
“Don’t let him kiss you on the neck,” Ovid tells her, “It will drive me crazy.”
-Diane Ackerman
A NATURAL HISTORY OF THE SENSES