I've used this technique to relax people since I was in college. I learned it in Dr. Overly's Intro to Theatre class, and I refined it on a boy. Yes. A boy. A boy named Elf. Dr. Overly paired us up in a moment of high comedy for her, I'm sure. I had already done a couple plays there, so I knew everyone - including Elf. He was a nice enough guy...short, happy all the time, craving attention like I crave bacon and breasts, and strangely asexual. No one could ever peg if Elf was straight, gay, bisexual, or into rhesus monkeys, because no one ever saw him with people in any sort of intimate way. Elf was a satellite; constantly orbiting other bodies, with no real gravity of his own. But he was a nice enough guy, if not a little annoying, so he was tolerated. To a point. Elf had hygiene issues. It's not like he was my old girl Dirty from back in the day - he showered - but he had a chemical odor that was an anti-pheromone. It didn't so much stink much as it just made you wanna be someplace else. It was a smell like motor oil or slightly burned popcorn. You didn't wanna gag, per se; you just wanted to go someplace else until the funk cleared. And Elf seemed blissfully unaware of this. He was also a "me too" conversationalist: if someone was telling a story to a group, he pop in with a "me too", regardless of the topic, like he was the storyteller's hype man, a la that midget Kid Rock had with him for a while. (R.I.P., midget.) You could be saying how it's tough to grow up as an Asian woman in our society, and Elf would jump in with "Oh yeah, I know what you mean EXACTLY. It's so hard. So hard." In addition to attention, he craved acceptance, and what he actually received seemed adequate enough for him. Enough background. We got paired up, and the good doctor told us what to do: one partner must be seated on a stool, while the other partner would relax them using a combination of visualization and massage. Ouch. I had a dilemma. What would be worse: rubbing Elf, or being rubbed BY Elf? I decided to rub him, figuring that I'd at least be in control, and not have to worry about him giving me a visual of him playing Sega in his room until 2am every night. Elf was more than happy to oblige, and he jumped on that stool like it was a woman. Or a man. Or a Star Trek episode. Or whatever the hell he was into. Sighing the sigh of the defeated, I listened to Dr. Overly's instructions. Try this at home, folks, it works.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike2.5 License.
ATOM 0.3