For a number of years, I traveled with a science museum exhibit. I was in Syracuse for four months and I met Mike. Mike was the first guy I met on the road that was about my age and had his shit together. He showed me the town and we had an occasional drink occasionally.
Conversation usually turned to girls. And sex.
Mike said that there is only one way to describe how it feels when a boy puts his pee pee inside a girl. Especially that first time. He said it and it didn't sound dirty and it didn't sound bad. It sounded just like I remember it.
We laughed because it was true. Later on, we'd be in the middle of a conversation and someone would say, "silky." Normally you would stretch it out: sillllky. It was great to drop it into conversation when there were three or four people in the room. We'd always laugh and then we'd pause because in our minds we would go back to that time. Silky.
My stay was too short and soon I was packing up to leave. Without my knowledge, Mike took a piece of packing tape and slapped it on the side of my traveling filing cabinet. On it he wrote, "Silky." As we were loading the trucks I saw the tape and laughed out loud. I'm sure, because it feels so good to say it, I said out loud, "Silky." And then I paused to think.
Months later my time as exhibit manager was up and I handed the exhibit over to Dave. I trained him for a few days and left the exhibit for the last time.
Dave would call from time to time with questions. One day his question was why the word "silky" was written on the side of the filing cabinet. Telling him was hilarious.
Tonight as I was chatting with Dave via IM, I asked him what story I should write about.
And now I stop and pause to think...