Would you kindly massage my feet?

I don't like feet.

I don't know when I realized this or why but feet gross me out.

I think part of it has to do with my years as an athlete in high school. I am sure someone who I played sports with, particularly who I ran cross country with, can attest to the fact that I always had nasty giant blisters on my feet. They were disgusting and painful. I spent many hours back in those days trying to find the right cushions, bandages, wraps, etc to heal old blisters and prevent new ones. Nothing ever worked. So I think part of my dislike of feet stems from the many blistering experiences of my adolesence.

The weird thing is, though, that I don't like shoes either. Most people would think that because I don't like feet, I would prefer to hide them from humanity. My feet prefer to be free, however, not crunched up in sneakers or uncomfortable shoes . My feet like freedom, particularly the freedom of some flip flops when outside or of nudity while inside.

My friends sometimes give me a hard time when they know of my dislike of feet. Just last week, cousin Jen thought it would be funny to stick her feet on my neck while she was sitting on the couch and I was sitting on the floor. I almsost puked. This humor is apparently funny to some people.

My friends also sometimes give me a hard time because I have often said, "You know, if I was ever dating someone that I wasn't really sure about and he asked me to massage his feet, I might just have to call the relationship quits." (Yeah yeah, I know... it's a stretch to think I'd ever date again, but regardless...)

But seriously, I am not sure I could do it. I don't think I could fake my way through giving someone a foot massage if I wasn't entirely convinced he was 100% worth it.

Then it hit me, however. There are occasional days that I come home from work or some place and I think, "Damn, my feet hurt. I could use a massage."

Would I be willing to take a foot massage from someone if I wasn't willing to reciprocate?

In what situation would I be willing to touch someone else's feet?

The answer hit me last week. Love. There needs to be a serious level of love between me and someone else for me to touch their feet. I realized this when my gram asked me to put a band-aid on the blister between her toes. Gladly, I did, even though feet are gross. But she's my gram, and I love her, and if you can't touch the feet of someone you love, well, you're obviously not dedicated to the relationship.

I guess time will tell what lucky fellow will be the recipient of such a deed.