because they don't wash their hair often enough, and it smells like old books
because they look extremely lazy and like they would be bad in bed, barely able to lift a finger and say - suck my cock...aaaah, puuurfect...
because they mail you neatly and make sure that all conversations around a particular period of time, on a similar topic, are in one thread (positively orgasmic behaviour by the way). No scattered emails especially ones saying - yeah, lets meet up, completely isolated from your carefully worded email (what the fuck, hit reply button, do not snoop on facebook and then randomly hit on send a message!)
because inspite of boring conversation, so-so choice in food, you hug at the end of the meal and your nose is buried in what you only remember as a jacket, even though it was a t-shirt ... the smell is home, you are suddenly a girl, and this is Daddy. Daddy who was never home enough and always on trips, daddy who was always twinkling, daddy who could swing you up into his arms, over his shoulders and above a household of crabby petty women, like your mother and sister.
What is surprising though is that I never called daddy, Daddy.. so Daddy is definitely a sexual category for me. And I challenge anyone to write a porn story with the line - fuck me, appa (gross projectile-style vomiting in office dustbin). Or fuck me, bapu as I called my father because I wanted to make him feel old (god, what a horrible child, I was) though that has a certain gandhian and androgynous sex appeal
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