a piece by Thaddeus Rutkowski, from the Jenny V. Show

THE MAD CAPPER
by Thaddeus Rutkowski

I may be a fetishist, but I am not a fetish fascist. I am equally fascinated by fishnet stockings, body stockings, waist garters, garter snakes, pantyhose, fire hoses, high heels, low heels, knee boots, combat boots, elbow gloves, biker gloves, G-strings, apron strings, string bikinis, training bras, training wheels, leather vests, leather masks, frilled collars, metal collars, fuzzy slippers, fuzzy dice, wispy negligees, lacy lingerie, leashes, lashes, earrings, lip rings, nip rings, ball gowns and ball bearings. But what I go wild for is bathing caps.

A wet woman in a skull-tight cap brings out the fiend in me. I want to get down on the tiles and start steaming. I want to switch on the shower massager and start squirting. I want to fetch a bath towel and start rubbing. Then I want to find a razor and start shaving.

I suppose it was my college dorm experience that gave birth to my compulsion. Alternate rooms were co-ed, but bathrooms were separate. Whenever I spied a female student running from shower to bedroom, my heart pounded. If she was wearing a Latex hat, my blood raced. I was not interested in panty raids. Instead, I instigated bathing-cap forays. "Come on!" I would say. "Let's hang some scalp hats on our belts!" Needless to say, my fellow bookworms were not so easily excited.

Just as needless to say, women I meet these days are not so eager to plaster their hair. I've tried stalking the aisles in Bed, Bath and Beyond. I've tried taking dates to the water ballet. I've tried saying, when my partners were showering, "Please, keep your head dry and your hair out of the drain!"

My efforts have mostly ended in the toilet. So I remain thirsty for bathing-cap action. I know that if I get lucky, I'll be able to snap on the Latex, buckle the strap and keep the lid on.