That damn old river

That noon, at the psychiatrist’s office

“Everyone has their little oddities, don’t they?”
“Of course.”
“My oddity may be a little more to the odd side, but it’s not that harmful.”
“Would you care to talk to me about it?”
“Hmm, I suppose that might be good.”
“I am here if you want me to listen.”
“You see, I don’t even consider it that much of a problem, but my boyfriend does.”
“You have a boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
“Happy together?”
“Very. Only my oddity causes problems sometimes.”
“Is your oddity of a sexual nature?”
“Yes, it is, how did you know?”
“Most oddities, or fetishes, that cause problems within relationships are of a sexual nature.”
“Of course, I knew that, stupid me.”
“Would it happen to be shoes?”
“Shoes?”
“Yes, some men are aroused by shoes.”
“No, not shoes. I know a man who has that though.”
“Everyone does, it’s very common.”
“I understand.”
“So, of a sexual, non-shoe nature then.”
“Indeed.”
“Please, go on.”
“I find it difficult to explain…”
“Take your time.”
“You see, I become aroused when I hear the word peninsula.”
“Come again?”
“Oh, I knew you would not understand! No one does!”
“Calm down my good man. I must admit it is … eccentric… but I would like to hear more.”
“Alright.”
“When did you first become aware of this… attraction to the word pe…”
“DON’T SAY IT!!”
“…”
“Please, don’t say the word.”
“Yes, of course, I understand.”
“Thank you.”
“Maybe we should make a codeword to mean the … arousing word.”
“That may be a good idea.”
“Thank you.”
“But what codeword.”
“How about… cotton candy? Or does that also excite you.”
“No, cotton candy will be fine.”
“So, when did you become aware of this attraction to the word cotton candy.”
“When I was 12.”
“That is very young for someone to even know the word cotton candy.”
“Is it?”
“It’s not the most common word, now is it?”
“I wouldn’t know, in my experience it comes up in conversation more than one would imagine.”
“Does it really?”
“It really does.”
“Alright then.”
“When I was 12, I was dealing with my conflicted sexuality. A very classical story of denial and despair over my attraction to men, rather than to women.”
“Aha.”
“Why did you say aha?”
“It was simply a statement of having understood what you said.”
“It did not sound like simply a statement of having understood what I said.”
“Didn’t it?”
“No, it did not.”
“What did it sound like then?”
“It sounded as if you are ready to lay the entire fault for my oddity with my acceptance process of my homosexuality when I was 12.”
“I was intending no such thing. I was simply recognising the possibility that it had an impact on your situation.”
“Alright then.”
“It would be silly to assume a natural process of self-acceptance would cause your symptoms, after all, there are plenty of homosexual men and woman out there who do not fly into a randy rage whenever they hear someone say cotton candy.”
“Exactly.”
“Go on, you were 12 and dealing with your sexuality.”
“Yes, right. Well, I was desperately attempting to assert my heterosexuality when one of our teachers became ill and he was temporarily replaced.”
“Was he seriously ill?”
“Oh no, a small bladder operation if I recall correctly, he was up on his feet and teaching again within two months.”
“Very good.”
“Indeed.”
“A substitute teacher you said.”
“He was a God. A glorious piece of manhood, from top to toe he was a slice of perfection: wavy brown hair, a noble brow, blue eyes with mischievous lights playing in his irises, a smile that could disarm the entire Russian army, strong broad shoulders, bulging biceps, barely contained by his respectable teacher shirt, pecs straining against the fabric, a flat stomach, hindquarters that were so firm and round that they were like a melon, sliced in half and stuck into his pants, a groin that seemed to WANT to be out of his corduroy slacks, oh, how many nights I have spent picturing what delicious Hors d’Oeuvres were hidden underneath that sturdy fabric, the amounts of pubescent semen I have spilled over the image of his buttocks pushing against his trousers when he picked up his satchel…”
“…”
“I am ever so sorry doctor, I got carried away.”
“Oh no, that is quite alright.”
“Doctor?”
“Yes?”
“Do you… do you have an erection.”
“No… not at all.”
“From over here, it looks as if…”
“I just have an unfortunate crease in my pants.”
“…”
“Please, continue.”
“…”
“Do go on.”
“…”
“Please?”
“Alright then…”
“Thank you.”
“You can guess which teacher he replaced of course.”
“Can I?”
“I should think you can, an educated man like yourself.”
“Yes… Uh… I seem to have a bit of a black-out right now.”
“You seem to be moving around in your seat very uncomfortably.”
“Hemmoroids.”
“…”
“Yes, unpleasant business, I know. Which teacher did he replace?”
“My geopgraphy teacher!”
“Ah, I see, I should have guessed that indeed.”
“The subject matter for those two months was of course…”
“Cotton candy?”
“No, Corsica.”
“Corsica?”
“Yes, Corsica.”
“What does Corsica have to do with anything?”
“Well, since then I associate cotton candy with sex.”
“But Corsica isn’t a cotton candy…”
“… What?”
“It’s an island.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes…”
“…”
“Perhaps you were not paying much attention to the lessons and a little too much to your geography adonis’ endowments?”
“It would seem so.”
“You must feel very overwhelmed now.”
“Yes, I am.”
“I understand.”
“No, you do not. All my sexually active life, I have been afflicted by this animal passion whenever I heard someone say pen… cotton candy. I become a wild raging beast of lust whenever the word is uttered, I must have no holds barred sex! I must lick, squeeze, suck, slobber, fornicate, nothing can stop me! I go on for hours and do not stop until I am completely emptied and bewildered, until my partner passes out underneath me in pure fatigue. And all over a misconception? I become a passionate, uncontrollable sex-god because I didn’t pay attention in class?”
“…”
“Doctor?”
“…”
“You seem to be slobbering a bit, are you alright?”
“Yes…”
“Oh doctor, I simply do not know what to do!”
“I know exactly what to do…”
“You do?”
“Oh yes.”
“Tell me!”
“PENINSULA!”