"It's supposed to remind people of a pussy," Joshua explains to me, and I roll my eyes.

"It is not."

Joshua takes every available inch of the benches along the beach at Coney.  The canvas of his jeans always looks tortured to it's limit as he stretches his wide legs apart to make room for his stomach on his lap.  His wide face is unshaven, and his hair is long enough and tangled with wild curls enough he's tied it back like a pirate.  The buttons of his flannel strain, and the sunlight is pulled thin through the clouds, and the entire moment is drawn long to contain his size.

Joshua is really big, and he laughs really loud at my embarrassment.

"It's called the Tunnel of Love," he reiterates to me, like I'll suddenly believe his point or even want to acknowledge it.  "It's all dark and there's water and it's really warm and damp cuz I put in those fog machines."

"But I mean... that's not like why they were invented," I argue, and his laugh echoes along the beach.

"Yes it is!"

I try and fail to squish beside him against the armrest of the bench and end up leaning against his shoulder and sitting halfway on his knee.  Sometimes I think Joshua's main accomplishment with his size was taking up available space so girls would have to sit on his lap.

"You're too fat to fit here," he teases me, and gently pinches me along the ribs.

"Okay, but is it like X-rated?" I ask him, and I feel him breathe deep and sigh with disappointment.

"No.  I thought about it, though.  Just making the inside a lot of porn."

"Why didn't you?"

He considers before answering me, touching his lips again.

"I thought it would be weird to pose all those animatronics like that.  What if I like it?  Does that make me a pervert?"

"Yes," I tell him, and poke him back in the gut.

"It's called Love Through the Ages.  You'll like it," he promises me.  "And the mauve is nice.  It's like a really classy mauve."

"It's pussy-mauve," I remind him.