I Like to, #3

If I had a fetish it would be ankles.

I don't know why, but I have always been fascinated with people's ankles (or lack thereof). I should be more specific: I have always been fascinated with women's ankles. I don't go around checking out the ankles on a guy walking down the street. But if a chick with decent stems walks past, the first thing I check out isn't her fanny, or her breasts, no. It's that complex joint where the foot meets the leg. The ankle, for me, has always been the barometer of whether or not the gal I'm checking out is, was, or will be fat.

I think it started out in high school with one of my first girlfriends. She had a great rack, a great smile, and most importantly great ankles. They were defined, and that was a good thing, because although I had a deep respect for this particular girl's mother, the woman's body shape most closely resembled Grimace from McDonald's. The way I saw it, since my girlfriend's ankles looked mighty fine then, it was safe to suppose that later in life she would not turn into the behemoth that was her mother.

These days I see it all the time. An otherwise excellently proportioned body from the neck down turns into a disaster when you get to the bottom of the shin and you can't see an ankle bone. If the lower half of a girl's leg resembles the stump of a redwood it's a sure sign of trouble in the future. When I first met my wife she was wearing capri style sweatpants before a workout at the gym. My wife is not and has never been what you would consider a hardbody. She is well proportioned and beautiful, to be sure, but she wouldn't make the grade for the SI swimsuit issue. I would describe her body then as athletic. But oh those ankles! So shapely, so obvious, they were the first thing to catch my attention. Well here we are eleven years hence and she hasn't blown up like Kirstie Alley, so there must be something to my theory.

So what do I like to do? I like to show off my own ankles! The majority of athletic socks I own are shorties. In fact, I often have friends or acquaintances ask me, "Uhhh, are you wearing socks? Because if you're not that's pretty gross." I would agree, and then show them that I was indeed sporting socks; they are just so short that you can't really tell I have them on. The reason I like to wear those short socks is that I believe that I have attractive ankles. For a guy with my looks I have to seize on the positive, and according to me, my ankles are the positive. You wouldn't have to use my ankles as a guide to how fat I may someday become, because I can tell you here that unless I am diagnosed with diabetes or end up in a wheelchair after a bad car accident, I won't be getting fat before I die. I have the metabolism that all women would kill for. But just check it out for yourself the next time your cruising State Street or the mall: ankles are beautiful, and useful too.