Just Your Imagination

Last night, in bed, we were having one of our random conversations. The subject turned to his friend Einstein (a clever and kind chap, who’s always lovely to me) who appeared in a dream he had about going to a brothel.

Something was said at some point about how neither of us can imagine Ein ever having sex.

And then my brain did a bit of a funny turn.

It went from “people we can’t imagine having sex” to “people we never even want to consider having sex”.

Well, it went in my head. Himself fell asleep before I got to elaborate on it. So, because the line of thought is still firmly lodged in my brainspace, I’m going to tell you, readers, about it. Except, I’m finding it difficult to explain, so bear with me.

it usually happens when you’re around a figure of some authority. You might like this person, you might hate this person. You might enjoy working with them, you might not. You look at them as a normal person, yet you don’t want to entertain the notion that they do things other people do as well. Like going to the bathroom. Or eating.

Or, in this case, having any sexual contact.

You can manage perfectly well in your life without thinking of, say, your boss or teacher having any other life than the context you see them in. Especially when it comes to sex, because you don’t really fancy thinking about what your boss (teacher, etc….) gets up to in bed.

I don’t know if it’s just me, or if I’ve even made myself clear, but just in case, I’ll give you an example.

A couple of years ago, due to circumstances in life, I found myself in the car with one of my teachers and her husband, who also worked at my school (they were giving me a lift back to the boarding house, of which the husband was the head at the time). I was doing the thing I usually do when I’m in a car, which is glare out of the window at the scenery, when suddenly, terrifyingly, the thought of them having sex popped into my head. I could see them entangled in a naked and sweaty heap of limbs, rutting like their lives depended on it.

It was brief, but very disturbing. Mostly because once thoughts like that enter your head, they won’t easily leave. So, for some time after the initial thought, whenever you see this person, you will think of those thoughts. You will talk to them, trying to keep the chit-chat going as you involuntarily imagine their face contorted in sexual ecstasy.

It’s awkward.

I hope this made any sense. If not, just tune this post out and wait until I write another one that makes more sense (you’ll be waiting a long time, but still).

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