I met HB in September. It was a curious date but you’ll hear more later. It was obvious that he looked forward to it. He dressed up (because my blog says I like a well-dressed man), he invested heavily in chocolate (because my blog mentions chocolate and so do I), and he clearly spent some time reading my blog – the telltale signs of a detail fetishist. I’ve already described a few of these here, I just didn’t describe them in detail. Now is a good time.
This type of detail fetish is quite common is certain circles. The Nutter. Being a researcher, he had an eye for detail. And this eye was always open. Everything he saw was filed away neatly between his braincells, evidence was presented, conclusions were drawn, summary was printed in triplicate for each relevant department and the research abstracts were made available to me on request. He gave me the most intimate present I have ever received. A shirt. How is a shirt intimate? It was a shirt in my size, of my favourite shirt brand, with my favourite type of cuff, in a colour I often choose myself. None of these parameters were ever discussed. Moreover, when I asked “But why a shirt?” he said something that never occurred even to me. Because I’m a shirt-wearer. When I thought I was dressed, he thought of the patterns that made this type of behaviour different from that of specimens of corresponding gender, age and occupation. I freaked out, went and bought 2 sweaters. Half a year after we’d parted ways I had to admit that he was right. I’m a shirt-wearer.
Walter has a heart for detail. He may be unable to recall what I wore for our last date, but he always knows how I’m going to react to something before I decide if I even want to react. Walter made it clear from the start that much as he enjoys the carnal part of our relationship, its less physical aspect is at least equally important to him; but it was our (almost) totally social date that made me see the bigger picture. During lunch we talked about the potential sequel to my video. A few days before that a client had shown me a video of a London lady which I, of course, shared with Walter. Unfortunately, the video isn’t there anymore, but it was a minute long shot of a provocatively dressed woman, tracing the outline of her hips, showing some skin above the stocking and then playing with her cleavage. The film was really well made, sufficiently tasteful, revealing and yet preserving the lady’s anonymity. I liked it, but I simply could not imagine having one of these myself. The inner resistance to it was puzzling to me until Walter shrugged and simply said, ‘This isn’t you. The London woman is playing with the viewer, showing off her assets. You don’t do this. You express your sexuality naturally: the way you move, the way you smile… To show how sexy you are, a film needs to show you doing everyday things.’
Ah, to have spent years selling your sexuality and have a man tell you how you best express it…
This last variation of detail fetish is most probably a by-product of a long unhappy relationship, although I can personally attest that certain occupations can also influence its development. It doesn’t come naturally to HB, it stems from his desire to please – a natural desire, but because his natural abilities to fulfil it have never been appreciated and therefore cultivated, he developed a mind for detail. Once an object is chosen, he takes it upon himself to read every scrap of information that can be found. Every e-mail. Every tweet. Every blog entry. Even I haven’t read them all. He’s done it twice. What he can’t find information about, he asks. And he listens. I commented on a beautiful fan in a shop window and I received it a few days later. I mentioned that I particularly like a specific gluten-free snack, and now I’m given it every time I see him (yes, I always think of Pavlov’s dog, too). The most memorable experience HB provided me with was finding lambs for me after I said I’d always wanted to see lambs up close – you’ll have to wait for the details, I’m afraid. Of course I’m pleased, but I’m also touched. I’ve been blessed with wonderful people for clients and the fact that some of them go out of their way to please me is nothing short of miraculous. I must have done something seriously good in my past lives.