Hen:I can do that now if you want. Hold on.
A minute of silence.
Hen:Ok, you live a way more exciting life than I do. That’s my takeaway.
Me:Nah, I just make it look that way. And I’m really careful about what I post because I know from too much experience how things can be taken out of context or twisted. So I only post the best stuff, and nothing that could be taken the wrong way.
Hen:Dude, you clearly go to parties and stuff.
Me:Occasionally, yeah, but look at some of the dates on those party photos. They’re pretty spread out. Most of my stuff - just like most of my time - is selfies around town. If you keep scrolling you’re going to learn way more about my breakfast habits than you ever wanted to know. Super exciting.
Hen:Mmm, breakfast.
Me:Dude, it’s past one. Don’t tell me you haven’t had breakfast?
A pause, then the “typing” dots began bouncing, stopped, then started again.
Hen:It’s what?!
Me:Lol yeah. I take it you slept late?
Hen:No, that’s the thing, I was up at six! Curie stomped right on my bladder and sleeping was over. What the hell have I been doing since six a.m., though? I checked my email, then I played a game on my phone, and then I decided to do some work and…sigh.
Me:Let me guess, you got sucked into a project?
Hen:I got this new order for a convertible bench and I got so interested in planning it and drafting…Some days I don’t know how people take me for a functional human being.
Me:Pretty sure you’re fully functional *wink emoji* What’s so special about this bench?
Hen:It’s…hard to explain. But they want it to convert from a standard, like, end-of-the-bed bench that you sit on to put your shoes on to a…um. I don’t even know how to explain this.
Me:Ok, now I’m intrigued. What kind of bench is so weird that you don’t know how to explain it?
Trying to imagine what could make a bench hard to explain, I unlocked my front door and let myself into my apartment. Silence greeted me - no surprise, since I lived alone - and I shucked my jacket and dropped it on the armchair that mostly served as a clothing repository rather than a seat. I so rarely brought anyone home - and when I did, they weren’t there to chat over tea - that it wasn’t reallyneededas a seat, but it had come as part of the living room set when I bought the room, so I made what use of it I could.
I was wandering into the kitchen, contemplating lunch and/or tea, when my phone buzzed again in my hand. Having almost forgotten I was mid-conversation, I looked down at it.
Hen: How familiar are you with, um…kink?
Kink? What the hell? I mean, I’d watched as much porn as the next guy, some of it kinky, so I doubted whatever this was would shock me, but still. I ran through the possibilities in my head. Puppy play storage bin? Convertible crib for a little? Cage for a human?!
Me:Ok now you’ve got my mind racing to all sorts of possibilities. Just tell me it’s not a dog crate for a human, please.
Hen:What even the…? No, it’s not a cage! Damn, you’re kinkier than I would have guessed.
Me:I’m not kinky! Well I mean, not beyond the usual stuff. But ffs, spill the beans, what the hell kind of bench are you making?
Hen:Oh, sorry. It converts to a spanking bench. Dunno if you know what those look like, but basically the standard bench needs to have parts that lower with a hidden crank so that the legs and arms can go lower than the torso.
Me:Is this a thing you do? Build sex furniture?
Hen:It’s not the first time I’ve done it, no, but it doesn’t make up a huge proportion of my business. There’s just not enough people in the market for sex furniture. Or if there are, they’re not coming to me.
Me:Maybe you need to advertise. Wait, where would you advertise for stuff like that. Kink clubs, I guess? Maybe leather bars?
Now I was picturing Hen dressed up like a leather daddy. Hmm, nice. He had a tight ass and a nice package that would look good in leather. A harness might be a little bit weird on him, though. I kind of suspected he wasn’t the bare-my-chest-to-the-world type.
Hen:I’m not sure I need more business badly enough to start marketing in bars. I make a living.
