I wore a new sweater today, and it shed everywhere I went. I first wore it a couple of days ago, and I thought the little grey hairs on everything I owned were due to Taylor hanging out around my bag, which he does sometimes. But today I wore it all day and it was clear — the sweater was leaving pieces of me everywhere.
I first noticed how bad it was when I got up from the couch this morning in the edit bay. I felt horrible for leaving a large rectangle of grey fur all over the back of the editor’s black couch. We started discussing cats as I scraped the threads off the fabric. I wasn’t the only one in the room to have three. “Did the fourth one become your sweater?” someone asked. “Or are you the fourth cat?”
I started to apologize again, but the editor interrupted me. “Honey,” he said, “that couch is ours for like, three more days. It someone else’s problem.” Call it the only perk to getting cancelled.
stee came to visit the office today, where I’ve been diligently working on my final manuscript rewrites. [also known as: squatting.] “You are shedding everywhere,” he said.
“I know. This sweater. I don’t think I can wear it anymore.”
“And it already has a hole,” he said, pointing to a part of the sweater I was trying to hide.
“That’s what I get for buying something pretty at Banana Republic. I guess now it’s just a sweater for after I go swimming.”
He gave only the politest of pauses before asking, “…for swimming?”
“You know,” I said, with a toss of the head. “For after I get out of the water.”
“… and when would that happen?”
“I don’t know. I might need it. Like at the beach.”
Other than our honeymoon, we haven’t been near beach water in almost two years. stee stared at me until I admitted, “I’m using girl logic, here.”
Girl logic has extended to another lengthy discussion in our house. It has become a debate that has spread throughout my friends, and was even a topic at a recent class at USC where I was supposed to be discussing my book, but we quickly delved into the importance of “Trapped In the Closet” and my latest email dilemma.
I’m trying to figure out if I have a foot fetish stalker.
Now. I realize by even bringing this person up right now I’m validating the existence of this possible stalker, but I don’t care. stee has repeatedly insisted that I’m receiving spam that is about my feet. I think this person has taken great pains to contact me every couple of days, and it’s starting to look less like spam, and more like… well, that someone’s having a very good time talking about my feet.
First of all, I should tell you that I’ve never responded to this person’s email.
Here. I’ll let you read it.
[readermail]
From: brendanspackle@hotmail.com
Date: November 14, 2005 10:04:04 PM PST
To: brendanspackle@hotmail.com
i want to take your gorgeous, slender feet in my hands and suck your toes like there’s no tommorrow!
your long bulbous big toe would be the first in my mouth, my tongue slathering its surface with my saliva, my lips sliding up and down its shaft and sealing around the base – delicous! i would devour your other toes as well, but not before i ran my tongue up and down your long, beautiful soles until they glistened.
if you could understand how gorgeous your feet are, you would understand why i want to suck them so badly. please let me suck those delicious toes!
Brendan
[/readermail]
First one. No big deal. Look, I get email from people all the time looking for pictures of me, of my calves, asking for me to send pictures of Johnny Depp naked. I get all kinds of weird requests, including people asking if I’d interpret their dreams, advise them on how to feed found baby birds (no lie), and long diatribes on why I should be a racist. One email talking about my feet is no big deal.
One.
Then:
[readermail]
From: brendanspackle@hotmail.com
Date: November 17, 2005 7:14:01 PM PST
To: brendanspackle@hotmail.com
your big toe has a date with my mouth and i can’t wait to taste it’s lovely, lucious curves!
imagine my lips closing around your heavenly big toe, my tongue slathering its beautiful head with my saliva. i would pop each toe in and out of my mouth and then lick your gorgeous, delicate soles from heel to toe.
oh, your soles… i want my tongue to go over them and over them again. the taste of your gorgeous feet will be in my mouth for hours to come!
Brendan
[/readermail]
See, Brendan’s starting to develop a sense of humor. A date with his mouth? Okay, two emails. Still easy to ignore. This one I started reading out loud to stee, but he made me stop somewhere around the word “slathering.” This was when he began his spam theory. I searched Brendan’s name. Didn’t find it anywhere. Sneaky Hotmail. Stee said I should be able to tell it’s spam because these emails aren’t coming to me directly. I’m bcc’ed on them. This means they could be sent to hundreds or thousands of people, and I’m not special.
I’m not special?!
[readeramail]
From: brendanspackle@hotmail.com
Date: November 20, 2005 2:03:33 PM PST
To: brendanspackle@hotmail.com
all i want in the world is to lick and suck your delicous feet for hours!
once your big toe was in my mouth, it would never be the same. i would suck it for all i’m worth and when i was done, i would lick the soles of your feet like they were the last feet i’d ever lick.
please, i want to suck your feet so bad. is there any way i can get your toes in my mouth?
Brendan
[/readermail]
He said “Please,” y’all. Okay, this time stee convinced me it was spam, and it was time to try to make the server think I was not a real person. I sent a bounceback.
Ten minutes later…
[readermail]
From: erickdson@hotmail.com
Date: November 20, 2005 2:19:32 PM PST
To: erickdson@hotmail.comall
i want in the world is to lick and suck your delicous feet for hours!
once your big toe was in my mouth, it would never be the same. i would suck it for all i’m worth and when i was done, i would lick the soles of your feet like they were the last feet i’d ever lick.
please, i want to suck your feet so bad. is there any way i can get your toes in my mouth?
Erickdson
[/readermail]
So I sent another bounceback. Five hours later:
[readermail]
From: erickdson@hotmail.com
Date: November 20, 2005 7:48:07 PM PST
To: erickdson@hotmail.com
all i want in the world is to l1ck and $uck your delicous feet for hours!
once your big t0e was in my mouth, it would never be the same. i would $uck it for all i’m worth and when i was done, i would l1ck the soles of your feet like they were the last feet i’d ever l1ck.
please, i want to $uck your feet so bad. is there any way i can get your t0es in my mouth?
Erickdson
[/readermail]
I gue$$ it t00k f1ve h0ur$ to rewr1te th@t %mail.
I stopped sending bouncebacks. So the next day, Brendan returned.
[readermail]
From: brendanspackle@hotmail.com
Date: November 21, 2005 6:06:50 PM PST
To: brendanspackle@hotmail.com
i can’t wait to suck your amazing toes!
imagine your thick bulbous big toe swimming my mouth. feel my tongue slathering its swoops and curves, my lips wrapped around its delicous base, sliding up and down on it. it taste so good!
i want to lick the soles of your feet until they glisten! imagine how good it would feel. i want to suck and lick your feet so bad!
Brendan
[/readermail]
“Slathering” really is a gross word. And I’m starting to get creeped out by my own feet.
This is when I tell Dan and Sara about it, and start accusing co-workers of sending me these things, trying to get me to… well, I suppose post here about it, thinking I’ve got a foot fetish stalker. Other than having something new to discuss at parties, I wasn’t getting anything out of Brendan. His repetition was starting to bore me. If you’re going to stalk my feet, at least try some new verbiage.
Ask, and you receive. Happy Thanksgiving!
[readermail]
From: brendanspackle@hotmail.com
Subject: something to be thankful for
Date: November 23, 2005 11:03:13 PM PST
To: pamie@pamie.com
give me something to be thankful for this holiday — the gift of your toes in my mouth!
the feeling of my tongue against your gorgeous, curvy soles, my lips wrapping around your delicous big toe and my mouth sliding down around it, my lips kissing your feet from heel to toe…
one thing i’m thankful for this holiday? that you have such amazing feet, and that they will soon be in my mouth! i can’t wait to taste your toes!
Brendan
[/readermail]
Homeboy did not take off for the holiday. I find that a little charming. I also like the new use of emdashes. Such dramatic emphasis. Also he lost “slathering,” which makes me happy. But he still doesn’t know how to spell “delicious.”
You may start to notice these emails are coming in a pattern, every two days. Brendan needed to mix it up a bit for his next drop-by:
[readermail]
From: robctyner@hotmail.com
Subject: hey there
Date: November 25, 2005 7:32:27 PM PST
To: robctyner@hotmail.com
i want to suck your toes so bad i can taste them….almost!
and i want to taste every gorgeous inch. your feet are incredibly beautiful. i want to kiss, lick, and suck them until i just can’t go on. my tongue would cover every inch of your toes and soles. it would feel so good to you and it would taste so good to me.
can i please suck your delicous toes?
Rob
[/readermail]
Rob asks permission. Rob likes ellipses. Rob admits that at a certain point, he’s going to get tired of licking and sucking on my toes. I understand, even if they taste good to him and it feels good to me, there’s going to be a point where Rob will get sleepy, or perhaps want to see what’s on the TiVo. Rob’s only human.
Or is he spam?
[readermail]
From: robctyner@hotmail.com
Subject: your bare feet
Date: November 28, 2005 4:06:21 PM PST
To: robctyner@hotmail.com
i want to know so bad how your toes would feel inside my mouth. your amazing big toe between my lips is something i’ve dreamed of. i would run my tongue the entire length of your soles and taste every gorgeous inch until you could take no more.
i promise you, my lips closing down around your heavenly toes i something you’ve never experienced. i have never tasted feet as beautiful as yours, so give me this chance! i want to lick and suck every incredible inch of your gorgeous feet!
Rob
[/readermail]
Rob’s back! And my big toe is AMAZING.
And look, since Rob and Brendan and everybody’s so invested in my beautiful feet, this is when I should mention that my feet are my most neglected body part. I get pedicures maybe three times a year. Maybe. And all this attention my inbox was giving to my sad, yoga-and-running feet was starting to make me feel self-conscious. No kidding, I’m thinking about getting a pedicure this week, just so I don’t feel like I’m going to let Rob down when I inevitably let him lick the soles of my feet until his tongue falls off. I mean, I’m a giving person. I’m all about charity. And at one point, one of his aliases did say “Please.” Isn’t this the way to a girl’s heart? Asking her the same question over and over again, covering her in praise, and — even smarter — praising her worst body part? Oh, Rob. You do love me. You really love me.
[readermail]
From: muscles4alan@yahoo.com
Subject: Fwd: Curious about your calves
Date: November 28, 2005 8:52:58 PM PST
To: pamie@pamie.com
Hello pamis my name is Alan pleased to meet you…I saw that site where I think you and your friends we’re discussing you having big calves and being fitted for skiis. See Im a very big fan of women with big calves. Believe it or not alot of men are. If it’s not too much or the wrong thing to ask Have you always had big calves? Do you have any pictures of them?
Thanks
Alan
[/readermail]
Oops. Some of my other not-spam got in here. Sidenote: Alan originally sent this exact same email back in June. I didn’t answer it then. Months and months later he’s like, “Hey. Pamis never wrote me back about her big calves. I should gently remind her.” Also, I was never at a site with my friends talking about my big calves. Dammit. This is the only time I ever wrote about them, and it was almost six years ago. And I don’t know what fucking site it got linked on, but every few weeks someone’s writing to talk about my calves, and it’s giving me a complex. Don’t these people know that at the end of my huge calves are my incredibly sexy feet with gorgeous, bulbous big toes? Come on!
[readermail]
From: robctyner@hotmail.com
Date: November 30, 2005 8:52:44 PM PST
To: robctyner@hotmail.com
how creepy is it to get an email from some guy wanting to suck your toes?
that is, until you have your gorgeous feet kissed, licked, and sucked!
your big toe would feel so good in my mouth. let me lick the curvy soles of your feet, kiss the heads of your amazing toes, lick in between, and suck your bulbous big toe into my mouth down to the base, it’s incredible head resting on my tongue, being slathered with my saliva.
i cant WAIT to taste your delicous feet and toes. oh my god, how i want to suck them.
Rob
[/readermail]
This is when I became convinced that someone I knew was screwing with me. Because he started with a joke. He’s back to slathering me again, but this time it’s more emotional, and he’s using all caps and… now it’s starting to sound like the work of Blynch and Ray.
Everybody denied it. But I never did ask Blynch or Ray. Guys? If it’s you? Quit it.
[readermail]
From: olu_woleoye@yahoo.com
Subject: Hi
Date: December 2, 2005 5:54:43 PM PST
To: Pamie@pamie.com
Hi,
my name is wole,a student studing biochemistry in
a university in nigeria(osu).I need some information
on sex.It is about d part of female body,is it true
dat there are part of female body which are sensitive
to touch in respect to thier day and month of
birth?If so give me details for dat of 14-21march.I
will be very greatful if this can be done.
[/readermail]
Okay, this one I just wanted to share. Because it’s my favorite. We were laughing about how this kid needs all the information on where to touch a girl based on a range of dates she might have been born in. Dan pushed a finger into my cheek to see if that’s where April 4 goes wild. It’s not. One day, when we share the right bottle of wine, I’ll let you know exactly where it is. But don’t tell your boyfriend or he’ll kick my ass.
[readermail]
From: erickdson@hotmail.com
Date: December 2, 2005 11:19:47 PM PST
To: erickdson@hotmail.com
toes as yummy as yours shouldn’t go to waste. i want to suck them and kiss them until my hearts content!
i also want to lick the bottoms of your feet until they glisten with my saliva. i would trace my tongue from the round of your heel to the tip of your gorgeous big toe, and i’d lower my mouth down around it, sealing my lips around its thick base and tonguing the head until it looked like a prune.
how delicious your feet must be. i want to taste them so bad i can’t even tell you!
Erickdson
[/readermail]
Who missed Erickdson? “Tonguing the head until it looked like a prune.” See why it’s getting harder and harder (heh-heh) to ignore this person? This kinky fetishist seems to know he’s —
I’m assuming it’s a “he” because I flatter myself. He’s Matt Damon and he wants my feet in his mouth, and there’s nothing you can do to change my mental opinion. He thinks my feet are pretty and I think he’s Matt Damon and we’re in love with our delusions and please stop trying to talk me out of it, stee.
Well, yesterday I received my latest love letter. From a new fan:
[readermail]
From: edwardkind@hotmail.com
Subject: hi
Date: December 4, 2005 10:03:05 PM PST
To: edwardkind@hotmail.com
would you be up for a little toe-sucking action? i would LOVE to suck your gorgeous feet! let me start by taking your big toe into my mouth, closing my lips down around the head until it filled my mouth. i’d lick your curvy soles from heel to toe until they glistened, i’d kiss the heads of your toes one at a time until i couldn’t keep them out of my mouth any longer!
your feet deserve to be pampered, and i would love to suck them.
Edward
[/readermail]
Edward’s got a bit of a different style. He wants to pamper me. But all these guys want to start with the big toe. I’ve got to tell you… it’s the little ones that are more sensitive. Don’t you know anything? The big toe deals with life all day, cramped up against shoes, getting stepped on, having to bear the weight whenever I reach for anything… and I’m short so that’s hundreds of times a day. It’s the little sheltered ones that never receive any attention.
Oh, now I’m playing right into my fetishist’s wishes, aren’t I? I’m engaging in dialogue. I don’t know what else to do… it’s at least another whole day before his footbot sends me another letter.
But this all plays into girl logic. You see, I don’t believe this is spam, probably because I want to flatter myself enough into thinking that someone’s actually taking the time to send me emails I don’t respond to about my feet that aren’t ever going in this guy’s mouth. I don’t know why I need this kind of validation, which clearly I need because here I am sharing it with you.
The other day at the class discussing my book, the boys kept asking, “But why are girls weird?” And eventually I had to say, “Because they equally want and don’t want a foot fetish stalker.” I mean, if I’m going to have one, I’d like it to be a real person. Someone’s clearly trying to make me laugh. How can it be spam if it doesn’t have an attachment or a link or a virus or do anything other than find new ways to tell me that my feet are awesome? And if it’s not spam, then why do I even bother reading these things? Why write an entry? Why make you read them? Why do I want to share my foot fetishist with you? Why would I rather do this than write a single email back saying, “Please stop.” Or: “You are high.” Or, as most people have suggested I do, why haven’t I sent back a picture of a rotting foot?
Because he’s my foot fetish stalker, I guess. Someone chose me, and… I don’t know. I’m weirdly flattered. It’s better than reminding me that my calves aren’t tiny. It’s much better than writing to tell me that the author photo in my book is crappy (which I also had to admit after this class last week, where they stared at the book and then stared at me and then eventually one of the girls says in the nicest tone, “It’s just… you look much younger than this picture, which is three years old.” I got new ones, okay? Gah. It’s too late. I can’t do anything about it. That picture will always be in that book, and it’s what I looked like that day. I was having an old, squinty-eyed, too-much-lipsticked day and I’m sorry I immortalized it.)
It’s the strangest part of my brain that rationalizes why a sweater I can’t really ever wear can still be salvaged for the three minutes I’ll be walking from a pool to a shower (And now that I think about it, why would I want to wear a shedding semi-wool sweater when I’m wet and in a bikini? That won’t be fun.). It’s also the part of my brain that needs my foot fetishist stalker to need my feet for just a few weeks more, until he just quietly goes away. I’ll be sad to learn he’s just a machine cranking out foot spam for reasons I can’t understand. Maybe on the fiftieth foot email he’ll ask me to open a bank account in Nigeria for him, or offer a Rolex for my bulbous big toe. I don’t know. Right now his only agenda seems to be telling me he’d love to have my foot skin near his teeth.
And the weirdo in me is starting to be okay with that.