I got this new hand soap, called “Frosted Coconut Snowball.”
It's the dreamiest scent ever.
When I’d unpacked (from Spring break) and had everything in place,
I dragged Andy and Leong into my bathroom. Wash your hands,” I suggested, holding up the soap dispenser and turning on the tap.
“Ok," Leong said, offering her upturned hands for soaping.
“Sure,” Andy said, assenting with his hands as well.
I pumped out a generous, foaming squirt for each of them.
Leong held the foam up to smell. “Oh, my GOD,” She moaned, “is this edible?
I shook my head no.
Andy sampled his as well, “Nice!” he agreed. Which is volumes from a guy.
“I fell in love with it.” I declared, adding, “You know, I never used to wash my hands before - now, it’s practically a habit.”
Andy chuckled.
“Good to know,” Leong said, before she began slowly inhaling the fragrance off her now-dry hands.
Mar 20, 2024
Mar 20, 2024 at 10:59 PM UTC
I got this new hand soap, called “Frosted Coconut Snowball.”
It's the dreamiest scent ever.
When I’d unpacked (from Spring break) and had everything in place,
I dragged Andy and Leong into my bathroom. Wash your hands,” I suggested, holding up the soap dispenser and turning on the tap.
“Ok," Leong said, offering her upturned hands for soaping.
“Sure,” Andy said, assenting with his hands as well.
I pumped out a generous, foaming squirt for each of them.
Leong held the foam up to smell. “Oh, my GOD,” She moaned, “is this edible?
I shook my head no.
Andy sampled his as well, “Nice!” he agreed. Which is volumes from a guy.
“I fell in love with it.” I declared, adding, “You know, I never used to wash my hands before - now, it’s practically a habit.”
Andy chuckled.
“Good to know,” Leong said, before she began slowly inhaling the fragrance off her now-dry hands.
our cast:
Leong, (roommate) 20, is a ‘molecular, cellular, and developmental biology major’ from Macau, China. She’s a proud communist (don’t knock it until you’ve tried it). We both speak Cantonese (her English is perfect) so we talk a lot of secret trash together.
Andy, 21, Everyone knows Andy. Not by name, of course, he’s like an extra on the stage of life - but you’ve seen him around. He’s carrot-topped, always darkly dressed, a soft spoken, chain-smoking divinity-school undergraduate. He’s so smart, I don’t know what he’s talking about half the time. (Seriously)
Request permission to use this poem