My partner’s stepfather has to be the most adorably earnest man that’s ever existed. In slow, honest speech riddled with his own “isms” and a healthy southern tinge, he makes the act of retelling mundane things both hilarious and compelling. Car trips with my guy’s folks can always find us reduced to gasping laughter in the back seat at least once as the stepdad rambles on about anything from lolcats to the motivations of the drivers around us.
Recently, two good friends of ours broke up after almost a yearlong romance. Dealing with the inevitable fallout of the split has consumed a lot of our time and energy as we make sure they’re alright. Naturally, when asked about our life en route to the planetarium with his folks, this bit of information came up. In a five minute soliloquy that I desperately wish I had recorded, the stepfather waxed poetic about what eventually became apparent as a call to have breakup sex with someone else to clear the proverbial cobwebs.
Being wholly uninitiated in the ways of lesbians, the call to action became increasingly hilarious, to the end of laughing hard enough to make me cough.
“Well, she should just go up to another girl, you know, but make sure she likes girls first, and go “Hey, do you want to go back to my place and do the vertical stuff rub?” And then, she should get one of them there double dong things, and they should do stuff with it, and bam. She’s not sad anymore because she found another lesbian.”
I don’t know what about the phrase “vertical stuff rub” that sends me into paroxysms of laughter, but I just picture two young women, traveling town holding hands and gently stroking lightposts, door frames, and car antennae in the stepdad’s world of narration. My guy and I have taken to stroking the side of the refrigerator and looking at each other with sultry eyes, whispering that we want to do the vertical stuff rub before utterly cracking up.
Feel free to add it to your lesbian lexicon, dear readers.