(I don't agree at all with the idea this conversation might imply; I think hitty-sex is perfectly normal and healthy. Mostly because I enjoy it. But this exchange actually happened today.)
Sitting in downtown Seattle's sculpture garden with a group of friends, enjoying the Labor Day freedom, talking about how our parents used to hit us.
"I never got spanked exactly; my mom would just slap me in the face."
"We had a willow tree out back."
"My grandma'd use the wire handle end of a flyswatter."
"We had a switch hanging from the laundry room door."
The conversation drifted for a bit.
"So hey, who wants to go check out that leather shop on Broadway? They've got tons of rubber and floggers and everything!"
"Ooh, me!"
"Me!"
"Me!"
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