Stranger in a Strange Land

a silly way to spend one's life-doing the same monotonous exercises over and over again, I mean- What do you think?"
                "I-" Jill stopped and blushed.
                "I withdraw the question. Maybe you don't find them monotonous but none of my business, either way. But if you don't want Mike's feet kicked out from under him by the first five hundred women that get him alone_and I don't regard it as a good idea, either; he should have other interests as well-then don't try to intercept his mail. Letters like that may vaccinate him a little - . . or at least tend to put him on guard. Don't make a thing out of it; just pass it along in the stack, cum 'filthy' picture. Answer his questionS if he asks them . . . and try not to blush."
                "Uh, all right. Boss, you're infuriating when you're logical." "Yes, a most uncouth way to argue. Now run along."
                "All right. But I'm going to tear up that picture after Mike has seen it."
                "Oh, don't do that!"
                "What? Do you want it, Boss?"
                "Heaven forbid! I told you I bad seen much better. But Duke is not as jaundiced as I am; he collects such pictures- If Mike doesn't want it-and five-to-one he doesn't-give it to Duke- He'll be delighted."
                "Duke collects such trash? But he seems such a nice person.
                "He is. A very nice person indeed. Or I'd kick him out."
                "But- I don't understand it"
                Jubal sighed. "And 1 could sit here all day explaining it and you still wouldn't understand it. My dear, there are aspects of sex on which it is jmpossible to communicate between the two sexes of our race. They are sometimes grokked by intuition across the gulf that separates us, by a few exceptionally gifted individuals. But words are useless, so I won't try. Just take my word for it: Duke is a perfect knight, sans peur et sans reproche- and he would like to have that picture."
                "All right, he can have it if Mike doesn't keep it. But I'll just pass it along to you. I won't give it to Duke myself_be might get ideas."
                "Sissy. You might enjoy his ideas- Anything startling in the mail otherwise?"
                "No. The usual crop of people who want Mike to endorse this and that, or peddle 'Official Man-from-Mars this's and that's-one character had the nerve to ask for a five-year monopoly royalty free, on the name, but wants Mike to finance it as well."
                "I admire that sort of whole-hearted thief. Encourage him. Tell him that Mike is so rich that he makes crepes suzettes with Napoleon brandy and needs some tax losses-so how much guarantee would he like?"
                "Are YOU serious, Boss? I'll have to dig it out of the group already sacked for Mr. Douglas."
                "Of course I'm not serious. The gonif would show up here tomorrow, with his family. But you've given me a fine Idea for a story, so run along. Front!"
                Mike was not uninterested in the "disgusting" picture. He grokked correctly (if only theoreticly) what the letter and the picture symbolized-and studied the picture with the clear-eyed delight With which he studied each passing butterfly. He found both butterflies and women tremendously interesting-in fact, all the grokking world around him was enchanting and he wanted to drink so deep of it all that his own grokking would be perfect.
                He understood, intellectually, the mechanical and biological processes being offered to him in these letters but he wondered why these strangers wanted his help in quickening their eggs? Mike understood (without grokking it) that these people made ritual of this simple necessity, a "growing closer" possibly almost as important and precious as the water ceremony. He was eager to grok it.
                But he was not in a hurry, "hurry" being one human concept he had failed to grok at all. He was sensitively aware of the key importance of correct timing in all acts-but with the Martian approach: correct timing was accomplished by waiting. He had noticed, of course, that his human brothers lacked his own fine discrimination of time and often were forced to wait a little faster than a Martian would-but he did not hold their innocent awkwardness against them; he simply