i was asked to tell you about my most guilty pleasure. i dont think of myself as indulgent. so it was something i had to think. what the fuck is my most guilty pleasure.

baths. i think. would have to be my choice. even more so than dark chocolate. or sugar. period. masturbating. waching janice dickenson modeling agency. or playing god of war 2 while having my ass eaten. not even the sweet smoke of mary jane. gives me as much pleasure as soaking in a big tub full of hot. steamy. water. besides i don’t feel guilty when i do any of that. but baths. i don’t know why.

sigh.

and its a ritual. over the many years of bathing. ive discovered a recipe for a good bath. and while each time its ‘made’ i might add something new. or take something away. the end result tends to be the same. and the motions as well.

the tub is cleaned. an ice cube is placed on the thermostat to insure enough hot water. and a warm bathroom. and the bathtub is filled. with ardent. almost lustful waters. that beckon wantonly. i feel seduced at times.

a hot cup of green tea. black. occasionally its both. and sometimes i bring an amstel light. or 2. or some previously mentioned ganga.

and music. something to drown out the rest of the house. so i don’t hear my roommates coming home. their booted feet treading heavily on the stairs. with every step. guilt lashes me. but it fades into the warmth of the water.

a candle. or two. and some sea salt. or usually batherapy. a concoction of queen helene. to the waters. i dont like bubbles. they annoy me.

and dont forget the pumice stone. maybe that is the hidden guilty pleasure. punishing. i mean pumicing my feet at the end of the bath. feeling the scrap of the stone against my feet. and the finished product. soft. supple. size 13 feet.

and when i slip into the water. that first step. always a burn as the hot. sometimes searing. water hits my tender. unpictured. flesh. my body adjusts. or i adjust the water. and then im in. under it. covered in it. luxuriating in it. i feel like a calgon commercial but i hate that crap. becoming 1 with it. i lay in the water. reading. soaking. drinking. slipping. thinking. further. into. under. and further. away from reality. worries are washed a way with all my woes. and for 30 minutes. 45 maybe. im blessed if i get an hour. i have left reality as far behind as i can in this city. besides doing something illegal.

and why is it a guilty pleasure.

im quaker catholic. ive been guilty since i was born. guilt is what made me turn myself in. that which started my path down incarceration lane. and its guilty i feel when i take baths. guilty about using water. and taking up valuable bathroom time. is that crazy. or what. and while the guilt may build before hand.

it vanishes instantly. like an advocado bath ball from lush. as soon as i slip into those sultry. and steamy depths.

its bath of hail marys. and pass me the loofa.

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