[The scene: a suburban home in North Florida, USA, during one of the wettest summers on record. The weather forecast for the next thirty-six hours calls for heavy rain, up to ten inches. Because the area right outside the front door tends to accumulate water even in normal rainfall, He has finally decided to tackle the problem head-on; He has left work early on this hot, humid Friday to come home and dig a small trench to draw the expected water away. For Her part, She has been off all day, thanks to Her employer’s “Flex Friday” summer policy. He gets home, changes into shabby clothes, heads outdoors. When He comes back inside at last, She is in the living room, reading, a colorful alcoholic beverage in generously proportioned stemware on the table beside Her.]

He: Think I’m going to take a shower.

She: [smiling] Good idea.

[He gathers fresh clothing and heads to the bathroom. While undressing for the shower, He notes the shirt which he has just removed is practically dripping with perspiration. As He showers, He thinks of how She looked just now, in loose houseclothes, drink alongside, smile on Her face, long legs exposed and propped up on the ottoman… He has what might be called An Idea. He finishes showering, dresses, and goes to the living room. In His hands He carries the shirt He’d worn while digging the trench. He brandishes it.]

He: My shirt.

She: Yes?

He: [gently waves shirt in air to share its perfume] Well?

She: What?

He: I thought women were turned on by male perspiration.

She: [with a not altogether inscrutable look, involving exaggerated use of eyebrows] Uh, well, no.

He: [visibly slumping] Oh.

[He trudges to laundry pile, and prepares to face the weekend in earnest.]