Stank your Ax foot

The woman from the gym* is now working at a university in Florida. I took a couples selfie with her. She manipulated it so that it looked much sillier than her real face. I snapped what I thought was the perfect couples selfie that I realized that my head was a shaggy mess**.

I’d just returned from Cedar Point with my daughter***. It was a dayyd-dayghter thing and I made the trip happen as between us to celebrate her feminity. My co-parent partner thought it was a great idea, even though I wound up getting chased down the road by men with pitchforks and hoes and carrying my son****.

But the thing that will haunt me is the guy who said, “Stank your ax foot” to me.

*—I don’t know anything about the real woman from the gym other than she used to look at me all the time and stand where I might talk to her. I am all business at the gym and don’t play games in general — she also let other men circulate around her and maybe liked to collect male followers — so I let the opportunity pass.

**—I skipped shaving my head on Thursday because I took the day off work. My head and especially the back of my neck feels like a shaggy mess.

***—IRL, I don’t have a daughter.

****—The one-year anniversary of my co-parent partner’s death is Tuesday. I am coincidentally going to dinner with my son and his family to celebrate my first son’s birthday.

*****—From a dream the previous night. The circumstances of this comment are lost to waking memory. I asked my Gemini AI assistant about its meaning and it assured me that it is very important.