I had a dream last night and in it I had to tell you something but I couldn’t because I had to go on a mission.
I was me, but I was also Aqualad, and the Teen Titans were going on a mission and I had to go too. But the thing was, I hadn’t been around all that much lately. I’d kind of been bagging on the missions a lot because of family and stuff, but this time they really needed me and it seemed important so I was going and whatever it was I had to tell you had to wait.
But the costume in my locker at HQ is old. It shrunk or I grew or
something, I don’t know, maybe I put on weight. It was difficult to
get the bathing trunks part of the costume past my thighs.
Kid Flash keeps going: “What the hell is wrong with you? We have to go, do you understand, GO. What don’t you understand about GO?”
And I’m all: “You guys go ahead, I’ll catch up.”
I’m alone in the locker room, and this costume just does not fit. And I don’t have another one with me. It’s too tight and it kind of grabs my area and displays it, there is no way I can go fight crime in this outfit.
So I’m sitting there on this bench and I’m totally uncomfortable because the trunks are very binding. They’re creeping up my ass at this point and I realize:
A.) I don’t remember what you and I needed to talk about anymore,
B.) My street clothes are no longer here.
I think Robin the Boy Wonder clipped them because he’s all stuck up and a complete bastard.
I think about taking a swim. They have a seawater pool for me at
the HQ. For me. Because I’m Aqualad, and I have to go in the water regularly or I… like… dry out or something.
I start feeling guilty that they maintain this pool which has to be expensive and I’m around so infrequently the costume I keep here barely goes over my huge thighs. I’m filled with revulsion for my body, particularly my thighs which are very pale and covered with coarse black hair. I think about how Kid Flash is always calling me a woman, which is totally sexist, and he doesn’t even care that Wonder Girl is right there and sometimes she sticks up for me and that just makes it more awful.
All I know is I’ve forgotten the important thing I had to talk to you
about and I can’t go on this mission because my costume doesn’t fit and I have huge, hairy, white thighs and each hair has a little dimpled hump of flesh at it’s base and each dimple seems just slightly inflamed. There are literally thousands of pitch black hairs on my paper white thighs, literally thousands of tiny dimpled slightly inflamed humps of flesh. I look at them and look at them until I feel like I am in a piper club flying over a vast, terrifyingly ugly landscape.
And then I woke up and it was still dark. I wanted to wake you up and tell you about the dream, which wasn’t funny while I was dreaming it but seemed kind of funny now.
But then I remember when I told you the Lucy Lawless dream and you wanted to know if I had any shame — which is what they asked Senator McCarthy right before his whole deal went south — so I just kind of lay there in the dark.
The sheets were damp. I thought I could smell the sea through the
bedside window. I wondered if I could fall back to sleep before the alarm goes off. I wondered if was worth it.