Teri Polo approached the dais. A medley played in the background, an eclectic mix: first Enya, then something from a 17th-century composer she couldn’t quite identify (but would probably recognize if you named him), then ELO. ‘Don’t Bring Me Down.’ ‘Evil Woman.’ Every song in their entire catalog (or ‘catalogue,’ if you’re in the UK.)
A voice greeted her from the bed: ‘Your eyes are as beautiful as the Arno, your hair as glistening as the fields of Erin, your bosom – two dazzling orbs.’
It was her. Lena Olin. She commanded the room like Cleopatra – she’d even donned a sepia robe and an ankh around her neck. All she was missing was an asp at her breast. She sensed Teri had a yen for something to nosh on, so she offered her a smorgasbord of delights: mead from an antique ewer, petit fours, slices of edam, brie and bleu cheese, a dab of aioli. The aroma was entrancing.
‘Let’s eat in,’ purred Lena before grabbing the long, silk obi wrapped around Teri’s waist. Her robe fell open. Then Lena opened her palm to reveal two tabs of LSD.
‘We haven’t done this since we both attended that liberal arts college upstate,’ gasped Teri.
‘Ah so,’ replied Lena wryly. ‘I remember it fondly. You cheering for the Bosox, me for the Chisox…’
‘We always went dutch…’ added Teri, pulling Lena closer.
‘And remember all those parties set in the Jazz Age?’ asked Lena. ‘And how we wanted to get a dog? You wanted to call it Asta but I insisted on Rin Tin Tin!’
‘You know… you’re still as graceful as an okapi,’ said Teri, wistfully.
‘And you, you’re as strong as an ox, as hairy as a gnu,’ teased Lena.
‘Am not!’ was Teri’s retort.
‘Are too!’ was Lena’s comeback.
Teri ran her hand along the nape of Lena’s neck. Lena did her part directing Teri across her body, between moans, more accurate than any GPS. ‘Mmm, more NNE,’ she said. ‘Now NNS… SSE….SSE…’
Lena smiled coyly then reached into a ceramic olla, scooping up a palmful of oleo, applying it to Teri’s torso. Teri followed her lead, aping her perfectly, spreading the pale, creamy substance up and down Lena’s digits.
Soon enough their axes crossed and they worked their way to an apex of desire, an acme of passion, with all the power of a fleet of SSTs.
Panting, they fell back onto the bed.
‘I haven’t been this out of breath since we last played jai alai,’ confessed Teri.
‘With that Emir…’
‘In Agra…’
‘During Tet…’
As they drifted off to sleep together, Yoko Ono began to play over the stereo.
Tags: crosswords, fanfic, hi will shortz, humor
“dais” “aioli” “jai alai” “emir” “Asta”
I need some words for “hysterically appropriate” and “every word perfect.”
I can only assume that Will Shortz would adore this. It’s so apt.
I am just SO SHOCKED they didn’t play ANY Jai Alai.
Oh, crap, nevermind, how did I miss that??
This is pretty much my favourite thing. You had me at Asta.
I would’ve been annoyed if Asta hadn’t been included…
PERFECT! I would only add Brian Eno for a threesome.
I bet Eero Saarinen is watching, too.
Accompanied by Eliel, of course.
And Ari Onasis.
This is getting creepy.
And Oona, obviously.
And what cruciverbal orgy would be complete without Ione Skye?
“mead from an antique ewer, petit fours, slices of edam, brie and bleu cheese, a dab of aioli.” – wow, i’m really hungry now.
I came here from the Shining menu, reading while eating lunch at my desk and… I’m not sure, but it seems like every bite/sentence has made me hungrier.
This is not that far off from a speech Roz Chast gave a few years ago before announcing the winners at the American Crossword Puzzle Tournament (yes, there is such a thing, I’m going this year):
http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/cartoonists…
OMG!
1. Are you playing in the tourney? If so, AMAZING! After seeing Wordplay, my husband spotted Ellen Ripstein in the park and almost asked for her autograph.
2. That Roz Chast speech!
1, Yep! My goal this year is to beat my ranking from last year (525th of ~700-725 people). Haven’t been “training” as much as I did in the weeks leading up last year, but I’ve done more puzzles over the course of the year than I did then.
I actually know Ellen and a bunch of the other people covered in Wordplay through the National Puzzlers’ League (did I mention I’m a gigantic puzzle nerd? I’m a gigantic puzzle nerd). I see Tyler and a bunch of the others at stuff like our annual convention, ACPT, and the MIT Mystery Hunt.
2. It’s pretty fantastic.
ACPT is the BEST. Am sad I no longer live in NYC, so it’s harder to go.
Also the best? This story.
Oh wow; this is amazing.
I used to write crossword puzzles for my college newspaper — I must have used at least 50% of these at any given time. I still don’t know what an SST is, but it sure fit nicely in a corner!
Very cool! How did you get into that? And are there resources to help/strategies to make the shapes for each one? (Like, do you do the long clues first, and then the shorter ones?). I love doing crosswords, and exist in awe of those who create them.
It’s not a super exciting story, I’m afraid — I took over the job from the guy I was dating at the time, after he graduated. I also worked on the newspaper staff, so I was around the office in general.
I usually planned out the long words first around a theme, and then made a grid and filled in the smaller words. I mainly just winged it; I’m sure there’s a better/more methodical way! There were (are?) a few online crossword dictionaries that I used to generate lists of words for a given slot — for example, four letter words in which the second letter is “a” and the fourth is “t”.
It was pretty fun! Though one time I got a terribly pretentious nasty e-mail from a dude who thought I had done a bad job writing the clues. Alas, if only I had worked harder to please him. 🙂
SST is the Concorde. Supersonic transport. 🙂
Hmm, that does make sense. Thanks! 🙂
I’m embarrassed to say I always knew to put ‘ALAI’ after ‘JAI’ but never thought about what it was until it featured in an episode of Mad Men.
When I was a kid back in the Mesosoic Era, we used to drive from VA up the CT Turnpike to my grandmother’s house east of New Haven. I always knew we were close when we’d pass a giant building just south of the road with MILFORD JAI ALAI in huge letters on the side.
I don’t remember when I asked my dad what jai alai was, or when he spent half an hour telling me, but I assume it was soon after I could talk, and see out the car window.
Perfection.
Cue up the Yma Sumac, because this e-zine has reached a new apex!
Such elan!
oh my god oh my god oh my god.
For a girl who has been doing the Times crossword everyday for the past 8 years and whose job happens to involve reading and evaluating erotica (at times) this is preeeettty much my dream post. Thank you so very, very much.
Not enough people EYING each other.
Not even an OGLE!
This is beautiful.
Plus – Lena Olin <3 <3 <3
Did they watch Ulee’s Gold afterward?
Please tell me there was an épée and an etui somewhere in that boudoir!
I am completely baffled by American crosswords, but this made me laugh all the same.
I like to think this all went down in Ames, Iowa.
Or maybe Edna, Oklahoma?
Which of them had attended Yale, making her an Eli?
I had a feeling these comments would be bittersweet – so many missed opportunities! How on earth did I not have at least one of them use ‘epee’ as a euphemism for something sexy and dirty? Argh.
My friend and I do the NYT xword online every day, and this piece (and the comments) are just reinforcing why The Toast is the best place on the internet. As my xword friend said “oh it is a special subset of humanity that would laugh at this piece.” A very special subset, indeed.
Would that their tryst had been in an apse.
This, and the comments, are the best best best best. I love you all.
Puzzle obsessive + former/occasional erotica reviewer here. You know how hard I’m loving this. No words, save maybe zzyzzyva. I plan to reread not ounce, dice, nor trice, but denim times, minimum.
Puzzle obsessive + former/occasional erotica reviewer here. You know how hard I'm loving this. No words, save maybe zzyzzyva. I plan to reread not ounce, dice, nor trice, but denim times, minimum.
I would've been annoyed if Asta hadn't been included…
When I was a kid back in the Mesosoic Era, we used to drive from VA up the CT Turnpike to my grandmother's house east of New Haven. I always knew we were close when we'd pass a giant building just south of the road with MILFORD JAI ALAI in huge letters on the side.
I don't remember when I asked my dad what jai alai was, or when he spent half an hour telling me, but I assume it was soon after I could talk, and see out the car window.
Nerts! You beat me to this idea. (But surely did it better than I would’ve, so, no hard feelings.)
Loved this.
She sensed Teri had a yen for something to nosh on, so she offered her a smorgasbord of delights: mead from an antique ewer, petit fours, slices of edam, brie and bleu cheese, a dab of aioli. The aroma was entrancing.
I wouldn’t want to clean up the orts after that meal.
I’m realizing that if you are a C or D-list celebrity seeking to live on in people’s memories, it would behoove you to change your name to Uouni Noil or some such.