all you need is super sexy love

14 Feb

As we toured through the Fez medina, our guide ushered us in to different shops along the way. For once I was quick on the uptake and realized he was in a sort of partnership with these shops—a “Customers call me to guide them through the medina, and in between guiding them to places of worship I shall guide them to your stores,” kind of partnership. We saw carpet houses, the tannery, and one stop that topped our list, the pharmacy.

Really it seemed more like an apothecary, with jars and bottles lining the wall all the way up to the ceiling. The owner thrust various scents and oils and cubes of soap-like aromatics our way, some of which smelled better than others. When Turner and I both mentioned our stuffy sinuses the owner stopped his demonstration to put some miniscule black pebbly looking things in a cloth and rubbed it vigorously against his palm. He pressed the cloth against my nostril and instructed me to inhale.

Startled, I did as I was told, and a strong, Vapo-rub-like scent darted up my nose, unlocking my nasal passages. I commented that I could breathe again through my nose. (Which is always a good thing. Unless you’re wandering through a medina. I’m talking to you, half-rancid meat smell.)

“Is good for snoring, too,” the man said, smiling at me.

“Then I could definitely use that,” I replied.

“You snore?” He looked incredulous.

“Oh you know it,” I replied, and the man roared with laughter. Do Moroccan women not snore? Does he think women in general don’t snore?

OMG. Is snoring unladylike?

If so I am screwed. I will never be a lady then, because let’s be honest: I’ve been known to wake myself up snoring. More than once.


ANYWAY, he continued on with his presentation, dabbing oils that smelled like jasmine, or chamomile, or lavender, on our wrists, before pulling out a dark green tube. He unscrewed the cap to turn up a waxy, fluorescent green lipstick.

“This,” the man said, “is how to tell if you are sexy or not.”

Turner and I raised our eyebrows.

“If you put it on, and it turns pink, you are sexy. If it stays green, you are not so sexy.”

He grabbed our hands and drew a streak first on Turner’s palm. “Oh! So sexy!” he said as the line on hers streaked a vivid, glaring pink. He did the same on mine. “Very sexy!” he said happily.

“Super sexy!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, super sexy!” the man repeated enthusiastically.

The super sexiness stayed with us the rest of the day. The damn lipstick wouldn’t come off for anything.

Hope your own super sexiness is just as long-lasting this Valentine’s Day.


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