I Don't Like Feet

"I don't like feet," is a lie I've become committed to. It's the excuse I give to wearing closed toe shoes and socks year-round, declining pedicures, and avoiding all foot touching from massages to playful tickling. 

My sock game. Wild.

Why do people like to touch feet?!

New fella I'm seeing went to grab my feet on our date this weekend. I had socks on but they were most definitely sweaty. I didn't know if the sweat had permeated through the cotton. It seemed a little early to reveal my sweaty feet. I didn't drop the HH bomb. 

I was kicking myself for not opening the sliding door adjacent to his couch. There was a cool breeze that night. Instead we cuddled up on his leather couch. I most definitely began to sweat because how can you not sweat on leather? I steadily became more uncomfortable as the night went on. I could not keep my cool-- all senses of the word.

Why do people like leather couches?!

When he grabbed at my feet I flinched and pulled away immediately. "I don't like feet," I said it a few times like a nervous tick. My confidence was plummeting. He laughed and asked if I had scary feet. Well, honestly, in my humble opinion I do. I did not admit that though, because they don't look scary they just have some fucked up qualities. He laughed saying that he was now afraid to see my feet. I laughed back but really I just wanted to run to his fridge and cool off and die a little inside. 

Luckily I did ask to open the sliding door later in the night. I was immediately freezing due to the sweat all over my body. It was a better alternative though and kept my sweating at bay. He didn't once comment on my dampness. Could he feel it? Were his hands clammy enough he didn't feel the sweat?

I've told you to "Speak up. It's OK." Shame on me for not heeding my own advice. Sliding door open, please!