The Glass Slipper and the Codpiece

Several years ago, after I kicked Carl to the curb (oh, I had my reasons, believe-you-me), I did what I always do when I’m in pain. I ate seven squares of dark chocolate (70% cacao) and surfed the internet.
I was suddenly interested in Cinderella. To my amazement, I found out she was born in ninth-century China, which no doubt explains the foot-fetish thing, what with the tiny slipper and all.
Now headquartered at Disneyland, this blood-sucking tick has infected the entire civilized world, especially the souls of women, with the notion that if we’re only nice enough, patient enough, and pretty enough, we will be rewarded with a wonderful man who will take good care of us forever. Right.
Anyway, what seemed obvious then was that the fairytale had less to do with Cinderella than it did with Prince Charming and his sense of entitlement. He was entitled to have women mutilate themselves for a chance to receive his hand in marriage. Remember the two ugly step-sisters and their attempts to cut off their heels and/or toes (what’s a few digits more or less?) so they could shove their size elevens into the precious size four slippers? You can’t get much more entitled than that.
But, what of the other story, the one that hasn’t yet surfaced?
In this as-yet-to-be-discovered tale, Prince Charming is just an ordinary working-class guy named Ralph who happens to wangle an invitation to the Grand Ball given by Cinderella, the most fair and wealthy Princess in the land. She has let it be known that she is available to dance the dance of mating.
During the evening’s festivities, after waltzing with our handsome Ralph, she falls in love. However, just before midnight, our Ralphie disappears. Fleeing the castle grounds he notices too late that he’s lost his codpiece. Oh well, can’t turn back now. His Golden Coach is already resuming its original identity as a kumquat.
Cinderella is so distraught that, upon finding his codpiece on the ballroom floor, she sends out her minions to scour the countryside to locate the man who captured her heart and whose member fits neatly into the leather pouch.
All the Prince-wannabes are so eager for a chance to be chosen by the Princess that they attempt to fool the minions. The more amply endowed of the men whack off a few inches, believing they might then be able to squeeze into the goat-skin pouch, while others, their under-endowed brothers, resort to strapping sausages onto their organs in order to ensure a snug fit. Alas, they are one-by-one found out to be frauds.
The search gradually widens and finally the party of minions arrives at the orchard where our lowly Ralph is high up in an apricot tree. His master tells the minions, “You needn’t bother with old Ralphie here, he couldn’t possibly be the one you seek.” Hearing this, Ralph smoothes back his hair.
The minions reply, “Oh, no, sir, we must check every member in the land; our lady has so decreed.” The master, not wanting to lose his head or anything, reluctantly calls out to Ralph. “Hey, boy, come down here, they want to look you over, posthaste.”
Ralph slowly descends from the ladder and faces the minions. They hand him the codpiece and watch in amazement as he slips into it. A perfect fit! “Voila! The Prince has been found!”
Ralph is whisked away forthwith to Cinderella in a golden coach and they are married in a lavish non-denominational ceremony. No more apricot picking for our dear Ralphie.
The lovely Cinderella asks no more of him than that he be faithful, submissive, and beautiful forever—and that he satisfy her every sexual desire while at the same time, of course, showering her with dark chocolate!
* * *
Rosie Sorenson is an award-wining writer whose work has appeared in the Los Angeles Times, the San Francisco Chronicle, the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review, and other publications. Her new photo essay book, They Had Me at Meow: Tails of Love from the Homeless Cats of Buster Hollow, is about her thirteen years of loving and being loved by a colony of smart, funny feral cats. To learn more and to purchase the book, please visit her website: www.theyhadmeatmeow.com.