The Imperfect Question

   "My knees", she replied.

   "Really?" He said in disbelief. "Your knees? Why do you hate your knees?"

   "Because during the summer between 7th and 8th grade my cousin Jerry said my knees looked like moguls - those little hills that are really close together that people ski over."

   Eric looked at his friend Sharon and tried hard to remember when he last saw her in shorts or a skirt or a short dress. Despite his best efforts to do so, he could not recall a single time he ever had seen her knees.

   "You know, I don't think I've ever seen your knees, so I'm not able to gauge what they resemble. Do they still look like moguls? I mean, that must have been a couple of decades ago, eh?'

   Eric smiled at himself for what he considered a sly compliment - he knew that had to be at least four decades ago.

   "Right", Sharon shrugged. "Still a fresh memory though. My knees are not as bumpy as they used to be, but all I can see when I look at them are a bunch of little hills clumped together."

   "Huh." Eric mused. "Those are usually referred to as dimples I think. Never heard them called moguls".

   "What about you?", Sharon asked, "What is your least favorite body part?"

   Without hesitation Eric answered, "My feet. I hate my feet. They are just not proportionate to my body - big clown feet is what they are. No pun intended, but I can't stand them."

   Sharon laughed slightly. "You do have big feet, that's a truth - but I always thought guys liked having big feet. They aren't that disproportionate to your body though - you are a big guy, after all."

   "Yeah, nah, my feet are too big. If I was a competitive swimmer or a hacky sack player, they'd come in handy. As it is it just means I have to buy big shoes and larger than average socks."

   Sharon looked at him over her glass and smiled. He returned the look and then thought about the question that usually followed in this little game.

   "Well," Eric said, "If you hate your knees would they be the body part you would want to change the most?"

   Sharon's demeanor changed decidedly. It went from slightly amused too seriously contemplative instantly.

   She spent a good 5 minutes pondering whether or not to be as honest as she really wanted to be regarding her answer.

   She thought about giving a banal, nondescript answer but quickly realized that there was no reason not to be blatantly honest, so she forced herself to look up from the tabletop she was staring at and said, "My butt. I'd change my butt in a heartbeat. I would die to have a butt like Jessica Alba or Sofia Vergara."

   Eric bit his tongue. There was no way he was going to admit he thought she had a great butt. He was determined to keep this relationship as platonic as possible, and while he might be deluding himself that she was entertaining any romantic thoughts about him, he was still not going to risk it.

   "Oh," He said, "I'm going to go with my teeth. I should have had braces when I was a teenager, but we couldn't afford it. Wonder how much it would cost to get them straightened out now?"

   Sharon smirked. "Nice. You're either trying hard not to say my butt isn't that large, or that it's perfect the way it is - which is it?"

   Eric slowly sank into his chair...