Porcelain Gladiators

Sometimes it just gets to you. If I ever smell the strong scent of urine, I instantly think of sex. I'm not into water sports, it's just that I have too many strong associations with three years of my life in public toilets, reveling in a complete abandon of flesh. Big men, Little men, Ugly or Beautiful; turn down the invitation for drinks, sorry I have to work, the film will have to be seen some other time.

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Erich was everything to me. I woke 15 minutes earlier to make sure that the coffee was ready (he insisted - only freshly, and I do mean freshly ground beans were acceptable for real coffee, "Otherwise, it's just bad tea.") and that the paper was ready for him to launch past at MACH 4 through his apartment. Precisely 14 minutes later he was driving to work and I was sitting down to jasmine tea and the discarded lifestyles section of the Star. When friends worriedly asked me what I got in return for my domestic bliss, I didn't catch myself saying "Erich deserves what I can give him" and I cheerfully gave for years until the day I came home from work and found the new boy in my robe drinking my tea with Beautiful Perfect Erich crouched between his legs. So, with very little said, I packed. I believe the gobbling was still going on when I left.

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Weeks later I heard the same boy tell a trick in the next stall he always hated going back to the John's house because leaving was so awkward. "I mean," he drawled, "do you have coffee and cakes afterward or what?" No, you drink the stupid unsuspecting boyfriend's very expensive tea whilst being gobbled.

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Still, it costs nothing to have your life revolve around being a toilet fairy. You make eye contact, hook up and exit. No commitment, no work, just pure physical function.
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I can still see the stained floor that was done in the inch octagonal tile, the rust stains on the wall urinals, the scuffling of the fat queen in the back stall whacking off at the sound of me slurping the fresh meat tonight, "I've never done this kind of thing" whose wedding ring you can feel in his back pocket along with the condom that is probably a year out of date; and that smell. It's not a confessional, but the seal is just as strong as if it was, and your eyes just glaze over if you pass one of the Johns on the street - if you remember them. Sometimes when I'm in the process of leaning back and enjoying it or bobbing up and down to get what I need the smell is more cloying than the perfume of jasmine petals in a teacup. Sometimes it just gets to you.

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