>>5I have this fetish about Elmer's glue. Let me explain.
When I was a boy, around 8 or so, I was doing a project in my boarding school one week where we were each given an egg, a box of 1000 toothpicks, a spool of thread, and a bottle of Elmer's glue. Our task was to build a contraption to keep the egg safe using only the toothpicks, thread, and glue. There were no other rules.
We built during the science class and our teacher--Mrs. Braithwaite--would put them into one of the cafeteria fridges for the rest of the time so the eggs would stay fresh. Mrs. Braithwaite told us that at the end of the week, she would take these contraptions--with the eggs inside--and drop them from the roof of the school gym. We would be graded on the originality of our designs and their utility.
There were lots of great ideas, it was pretty impressive for a bunch of 8- and 9-year olds. I had one of the best innovations. I poured some glue onto a table in the corner of the classroom until it formed a thin flat puddle. I did this a few more times on the rest of the table. Then I put up a sign that said "Do not touch!" and pointed it out to Mrs. Braithwaite. She looked puzzled but played along and told the students not to disturb my work. The next day, I had some nice "sheets" of glue. Instant parachutes. Epic win. The other kids were jealous and started doing the same thing.
I should mention here that Mrs. Braithwaite was in her mid thirties, with black hair and rimless glasses. She was short, about 5'3" but that was still much taller than me or any of the other kids. And she had a pretty good body. She looked kind of like an older Shannen Doherty, but nicer and more normal-looking, not like a TV star. Usually she would wear a sweater and a skirt that would come down past her knees and some flats. Basically a nice-looking woman whether you were 7, 17, or 37, but not what I would call hot.
But anyways I was almost out of glue and still had a long ways to go on my frame for the egg. So I asked Mrs. Braithwaite if I could have another bottle of Elmer's. She said if she gave me more glue she'd have to give more to all the students. I kept asking her and she caved and asked the class to vote. Everyone making parachutes said yes and it was game on.
The whole episode was kind of like what the Pentagon and a big defense contractor: they demonstrate an interesting technological capability, then fall short in building the fighter jet or whatever, and they finally demand more money to make the idea work. And they almost always get it. Anyways Mrs. Braithwaite finally said OK but told me I'd have to help her deal with the extra glue, whatever that meant. Anyways next thing you know there's glue all over every flat surface in the classroom.
But I had another trick up my sleeve. I made more sheets for the next two days and then put them into an overlapping pattern and added some more glue and thread, being careful to save enough thread to attach the parachute and also secure the egg in the frame I had built for it. The result was strong and big and by the time the other kids realized what I was doing it was the end of class on Thursday and they didn't have time to copy me. So I felt pretty good. Right before school ended, Mrs. Braithwaite told me to stay after class, though, so the good feeling didn't last long.
After the other students had left she closed the door and told me she was very impressed with my project but that my approach had made it hard for her that week because there was glue everywhere. There were some students who had accidentally spoiled other students' parachutes by putting their hands on the semi-dry glue puddles and that sort of thing.
Mrs. Braithwaite said that since I came up with the idea in the first place that I should stay and help her fix the other students' parachutes to be fair--not make them bigger, just put glue into the gaps that a few clumsy kids had caused. They would still be structurally inferior to mine. I figured this sounded fair. So we got a few bottles of Elmer's and went to work.
Anyway as she and I were fixing the glue puddles I looked at her and noticed she was eating some of the glue. That's right, just like a little kid: eating the Elmer's glue. She had some on her index finger and sucked it off. Some of the glue was still on her face. There was a little dribble of glue coming down from the corner of her mouth.
Now I am here to tell you that I felt something at that moment that I did not fully understand for years. Mrs. Braithwaite asked me if I liked the taste of glue. I said, "Um, I guess" or something like that but what happened next is simultaneously kind of fuzzy and yet parts are also still crystal clear even 15 years later.
She came closer to me, rolled her finger in a puddle of still-wet glue, and licked it clean. Then she brought the finger up to my mouth. I still remember how her nails were polished: light pink, with a few scratches. I didn't know what to do, so I just sucked her finger. I could still taste some of the Elmer's glue on it. Then she put a little dab of glue on the side of her neck and asked me if I wanted to lick it off.