INVITATION TO LUNCH

There are foods you should never eat in public. I learned this years ago. And there are some things you should not, under ANY circumstances, eat while clothed.

In the first category is roast duck from Chinatown, because it’s so good that you’ll bury your face in it, and get duck grease up to your elbows and beyond.
Crabs from Stockton Street exemplify the second category.
Grease, scallion, ginger, and fragments everywhere.
Your clothes will be permanently fishy.
Sticky in surprising places.

I remembered this because of lunch today.
Unfortunately I cannot sit at my desk naked scarfing down yummy things.
My coworkers would object.
They would want some too.

No offense, folks, but I have no desire whatsoever to have you all mobbing my desk in the buff.
That’s my food, and I’m not sharing.
Get your own naked food.


One of the many other things you must only do when utterly unclothed is ream your pipes.
See, if you’re doing it assiduously, you will not immediately notice that the finely powdered carbon which you scraped from the cake (layer of carbon and tobacco ash lining the inside of the chamber) will, no matter how careful you are, deposit itself on your pants. 
And it will be impossible to shake out or wash entirely off.
It will most likely land right in your crotch.
Leaving suggestive black streaks.

Best strip to the skin, make yourself comfortable, put an old towel on the chair, and newspapers on the table and the floor.
Then pull out your Savinelli Reamer, and go at it.
Several briars at a time.
Take a bath afterwards.

Not only is this something that requires nudity, it should also ONLY be done when your roommate is NOT likely to disturb you. The sight of a handsome naked male tool-user may be too much to absorb.
At least without comment.

Years ago, when my roommate and I were still a couple, she chanced upon me thus engaged in the teevee room. At first I didn’t notice her, so involved was I in the task at hand. And yes, there were sooty smears all over my lap at that point.


“I never knew you chased cars!”


What? Huh? What are you referring to?

She explained that I had obviously been doing something incredibly nasty involving vehicles. Then she accused me of having a thing for that zesty Chevy Impala parked across the street.
How could I, she asked, and obviously in broad daylight too!
I should have waited till later, when there weren’t any children around to be traumatized.
And no, she refused to believe that I wasn’t taking advantage of the poor automobile, obviously I had poured it full of unleaded first. Evil man!
Chevy Impalas are the dumb blondes of the car world.
She sulked at my intemperance.
Car-loving beast!

Several months later she mentioned conversationally to some mutal friends we were visiting that she once found me mother-naked and striking attitudes, with stripes of tribal war-paint on my gonads. An x-rated version of James Krippendorf, with even worse acting than Richard Dreyfuss was capable of.
Either that or a demented re-interpretation of Colonel Kurtz rising from the water of the Nung river, wrong end first.
No wonder I loved that movie.

NEVER let anyone see you with a streaky crotch. It puts horrible ideas into their heads.
They’ll accuse you of things.

Even though Savage Kitten and I have just been roommates for a long time, there is NO pipe reaming while she is around.
I do it at night, or on days when she’s out of the house.

If there’s EVER going to be another person there while I clean my smoking equipment, she’ll have to be in on it from the very beginning. In fact, I shall insist upon it.
That way she can see for herself that there is absolutely no hanky panky going on.
In no way anything remotely suspicious at all, as you can observe.
Just a naked man handling a piece of wood.
After enjoying duck or crab.


==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================