Hairy Legs, Smelly Feet, and Toenail Polish

September 14, 2008

I like to spice things up on my blog(s) now and again.  Once I’ve written a few serious posts, I like to throw in some fluff.

I dated a guy several years ago named (Gosh, am I running out of fake names already?)…Moe.  Don’t ask me where I come up with these names, they just pop in my head.  He’s the last person since Dave that I dated enough times to lose track of how many times we went out.  Things were going along fine with Moe. 

Holy crapola.  I just remembered something really trippy.  I made this connection when I first started going out with Dave, but then I forgot about it.  Now it just seems really bizarre.  Let me tell you about Moe first.

I’ll skip over the details and get to the heart of the matter.  The reason I broke up with Moe was because he had a hard time “getting it up.”  Apparently he was on some kind of medication (gosh, this sounds familiar!).  I could have perhaps cut him some slack, since he was ultimately able to get it up.  The problem was that he had fetishes that he needed to “utilize”…to get it up.  He had two fetishes: hairy legs and smelly feet.

I have hairy legs.  I’m a feminist.  I hate shaving.  If waxing wasn’t so expensive, I’d do it regularly.  I shave about once a week or so in the summer to keep things from getting too out of hand, but I rarely shave in the winter time, except to weed wack my legs every few months for maintenance purposes.

Most guys I date don’t mind the hairy legs.  But the fact that Moe loved hairy legs seemed kind of inappropriate.  And smelly feet?  I just don’t have smelly feet.  I never have.  None of my shoes smell, even my old athletic shoes.  I guess it’s my body chemistry or my diet or something. 

Moe looked at online porn, too.  I’m not really into porn.  I guess it would be one thing if you watched porn and then were ready to properly (and of course, consensually) ravish me.  But if you watch porn, need my legs to be hairy, and have to put my toes up to your nose and inhale deeply to get hard, then that’s just over the top.

Dave, on the other hand, has a “strong preference” for shaved legs, which I find somewhat inconvenient.  He expects me to shave my legs.  I’m a busy woman.  I have better things to do than shave my freaking legs (which is probably somehwere close to half of the surface area of my ENTIRE body) every other day.  He also says painted toenails is a “turn on.”  The moment he told me that is when a red flag went up…I asked him if it was a fetish and he insisted it wasn’t.  But silly me, I painted my toenails.

I’m noticing a continuing theme here with Dave…a growing list of small things I’ve done to accomodate him…and although he’s definitely done some nice things for me, I can’t help but notice the imbalance.