ankle bones and magic potions

fernando always gives me crap about ankles. i met fernando in salta, argentina, in february of 2003. he is the person i hold responsible for my acquired taste for wine. we stayed in the same hostel, and there began our friendship. one evening, i didn't really have anything to do. this british couple had just arrived, and the girl, Cathy we'll call her, was telling stories about how they had been to coutry X and climbed Y mountain. there stories were very interesting, so i decided to sit down at their table and talk to them. soon, fernando arrived and joined us. Cathy had heard that there was some festival or party or something somewhere, in one of the small town outside of Salta. so we called a Remis, crammed into the back of it, rode out for twenty minutes, found nothing, and returned to the hostel. i am sure i'm mixing up events of different nights spent at the hostel, but they all kind of blend together and the order isn't that important. anyhow, we returned to the hostel a little disapointed that carnaval was no longer going on in the boonies otsied of salta, but still determined to have a good night. we sat at a table on the patio, and fernando then procured a bottle of wine. we began to drink. yes it was cheap wine - we started with cheap wine in bottles but towards the end of the evening we ended up sending one of the guys to go get the two-peso box of wine. in the course of our drunk talk, we discussed what different body parts turn us on. i don't really remember what anyone else said, but i said that ankles were my turn on. i can't really explain this - but when a guy has nice ankles (as in, not thick, but the right size) and the put that together with socks that come up to just below the ankle bone... i looove that. i don't know why. what followed was a discussion of the hypothetical sexual positions one could use in order to satiate such ankle fetish. so whenever i see fernando or talk to him on MSN, he always reminds me of ankles. anytime i tell him of a new guy i'm dating, he asks me if he has nice ankles.

so one might ask why i have chosen to write about ankles tonight? last night DCB1 was at the house. he took his shoes of. to reveal these ankle socks. right up to right beneath the ankle bone. he was rotating his foot in little circles. i almost died.

how conveniently telling about fernando leads me into this second part. magic potions. red wine, for me, is like a magic potion. if i have already made up my mind to do or not do something, red wine, and i don't know how it does this, always causes me to change my mind. it was how i seduced MP the last time i saw him. we had both decided that our fate was to be friends, but we went out later that night, split a bottle of cabernet-sauvignon, and ended up at Motel Swing. i don't know how it does it!

so if you give me wine, don't show me your ankles or we could end up in an awkward position.