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DistantThunder -> One of THOSE moments... (3/1/2007 8:27:46 AM)
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So there I sat, both bemused and I will admit more than a smidgen confounded. With my chin resting on the back of my hand, that same hand gripping a rather long stick, looking on at the strange collection of artifacts in the parking lot behind my place of business, interjected by the occassional poking of the stick at the mysterious wonders on the ground.
The long neon blue wig matted with mud and deceased bugs caked into the locks, a spent condom wrapper (Minus the latex product usually held in such a package), a condiment sized pack of K-Y jelly and the finale to the exhibit was a mud encrusted toy clown.
So there I sat, poking at the wig, its bright blue tendrils caked with mud... I am HOPING it was mud and trying to place this image in my mind. Much like trying to piece together a puzzle from different boxes, a sensualist sleuth as it were.
Now, I consider myself a rather... enlightened man... open to the strange or surreal ideas of life's more... unusual moments of sensuality... Yeah, that works. But, lets look at the pieces of this particular moment shall we.
Somebody took the time out of their day or night... during the day the sight of a bright blue wig bouncing around inside a car would have definitely gathered a large circle around the car, if for no reason the sight of a smurf in ANY act of intimacy has a habit of attracting attention, so let us assume it was night. At any rate, somebody, genders still pending, took time out of their evening to find an empty parking lot, purchase a blue wig, condoms, K-Y jelly and lest we forget, a five inch plastic clown... ironically with blue hair as well.
Please, bear in mind that none of these products were in the parking lot the evening before and given the fact that all of these objects were located in an eight foot circle of a parking spot, the natural assumption is that they emerged from the same vehicle.
I poked again at the wig, my mind trying to work the enigma that had unfolded in the pale twilight morning glow. My mind began drawing on my own role-play experiences I have enjoyed. Everything from a snarling pirate, growling the apropo GAR to a police officer being convinced not to give a ticket and administering a thorough frisking, but for the life of me I could not build the events of this experience in my imagination.. A circus PIMP mobile? An episode of CLOWNS GONE WILD? and if this was a case of prostitution, how does one breach the issue of the plastic clown?
"Hey baby, how much for you to wear a blue wig and a red nose while I honk a twisted horn and sing at the top of my voice Dat dat dada dat dat da da da? And could you use this clown in an unnatural act?"
And the effort of getting the image of what was done with the plastic clown still makes me shudder and was that an extra charge? And which one wore the wig? *shudder*
I stabbed at the wig again, my eyes squinting in consternation, twisting from side to side, much the same way a dog does when one blows a silent whistle. Why leave the wig, but keep the spent condom? I mean, what was the purpose of the wig? It is not as though the driver would be forced to wear the wig home, unless of course the wig would raise questions with a significant other... that would be a conversation worth hearing.
"Honey, why did I find a neon blue wig in the car?"
"I can explain this... give me a second... OH WAIT!!! I was... applying for theeeeee promotion foooor theeeeee director of circus accounts annnnd I wanted to show I was a team player?"
"Okay, but why is it everytime I sit in the passenger seat do I slide off onto the floor?"
"Hmmm becaaaause I juuuust waxed the car?"
"Just the passenger seat?"
"Yup, yup... that's my story and I am sticking to it."
"And the used rubber?"
"WATCH OUT A METEOR IS COMING STRAIGHT AT THE HOUSE!!!"
(Please insert the sound of running footsteps and a phone dialing the number of a good divorce lawyer. Unless or course this was shared with the significant other, in which case why leave ANY of the objects... Stop littering.)
A brief gust of wind causing the neon blue creature to come to life, earning it several resounding whacks of the stick, one can never be too careful with a rabid blue wig after all. Comforted that the costume coif was stunned enough for a closer investigation I lifted it with the tip of the crudgel, several of the surviviing insects scattering in a 360 degree circle and causing me to pause for an intensive willy dance.
On returning I began to question my own depths of kink, I mean here was someone who took kink to a new a brilliant level. I am a lover of the spank and tickle and as I have said, jumping around a room dressed as Black Beard is not precisely the vanilla in the metaphoric ice cream cake of perversion, but a plastic clown?... A PLASIC CLOWN? Who were these people, what were their day life occupations?
There is no closure here, the wig was eventually thrown away, the clown was crushed by a forklift, the dual packages of naughtiness were simply ignored, touching them would require reciprical shots of antibiotics and my weeks since have been haunted by the image of Bozo the clown and a street walker entangled in a moment of passion that I will openly admit makes me question whether I will EVER return to Barnum and Baily's... EVER.
In closing, let me say that I now have begun a search for people driving in the dark wearing blue wigs with a five inch effigy of a clown on their dashboard, where normally sits a religious figure, seeking refuge in the dark parking lots of industrial complexes.
Now, if you will excuse me, I am going on a shopping hunt for a five inch clown and a red rubber nose... apparently I have fallen behind the curve and this simply WILL NOT DO...
HONK HONK
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