Yours truly has had his share of what most people deem the ultimate luxury: one night stands. But before your juices begin to flow, dear erudite reader, let me forewarn you that all my 'bedmates' were just inanimate objects!
It's about those times when the world hadn't gone digital. Times were simpler and I was only a kid. Dad would go to the bazaar every evening; and each time he came back, I would spring into action and probe his shopping bag for anything that might catch my fancy. Books & Magazines were my favorite...and there was generally enough of a steady supply of them to keep me happy. When they were not to be found after a probe, I would be happy to make do with any other thing, including fruits, vegetables, electric torches, buckets...the list is endless.
Accommodating the newly bought 'object' by my side during bedtime was seldom an issue. My parents had learnt by observing me over the years that I was abnormal beyond repair & thus never tried to mend my fetish ways. Consequently, I slept almost each night with a virgin product newly procured from the market.
Once, however, a problem did arise when I insisted on sleeping with one such product. It happened to be a huge orange bucket! Now, it was uncomfortable accommodating such an oversized object & I'm sure my parents protested...but I would have none of it. So there we slept, me deeply attached to a bucket that would repay such unconditional love by serving us for many years to come. In fact, we still use it!
Books and magazines were my all-time favorite. They must have been my bedmates from even before I could read and write. Accommodating a new book under my pillow was way too easy to cause any discomfort.
One particular incident remains fresh in my mind. Dad had bought 'only' a small bag of apples. I wasn't too fond of perishables, but since there was nothing else to give me company at nighttime and since I wouldn't let adversity ruin the tradition, I decided to sleep with the apples complete with the tiny white bag. Now, it's not that I wasn't kept well fed, but the apples smelt so appetizing that hunger pangs awoke me in the dead of night. Mulling over the situation, I decided to devour one of the apples. No one will notice a thing in the morning since there are so many of them, I thought. I should have known better. Out came an apple from the bag. No sooner had I dug my incisors into it than my mom uttered such a blood-curdling scream that I decided against consummating my plan. Back went the apple into the bag. I guess mom didn't trust me with the apples and was consequently on a night-long vigil. The noise of the bite was a giveaway, I guess.
The next morning, to my consternation, the injured apple was shown around the house as damning proof of my insatiable appetite, unfailingly evoking peels of laughter from all and sundry. I don't remember what fate the apple finally met. I'm sure, after the my aborted nocturnal attempt, the 'apple' of my eye finally made its way into my stomach.
I also had a peculiar fascination for electric torches. Nothing turned me on like a torch with a new pair of batteries. Needless to say, I once slept with one such torch. I played with the switch & liked to see the 'red' with my eyes closed. Unfortunately, I fell asleep during the dabbles with the switch on! I awoke the next morning to this horrible discovery and found the torch bulb glowing dimly! The brand new batteries were completely drained out! So that's how I ended up ruining a perfectly virgin pair of batteries. I was never admonished for the accident, although the incident did go down in our family history only to be recalled time and again and again as a favorite anecdote.
One night stands are shunned by society...and age has only made a conformist out of me. Well, almost! Still, old habits die hard & I do sometimes manage to find a 'partner' to share my bed with...though they are mostly not virgins!