Laser Cannon

Over 50

This morning has been a parade of older men. It didn’t have a promising start. As I was unlocking the front doors, I looked up and saw the first man tapping his foot. I opened the door and laughed, “Sorry, you don’t have to wait while I unlock it." All he said was, “There you go." His tone dripped condescension. I ignored him and opened up.

I started eating my breakfast, expecting it to be just me and the grump for a while. The second man came in as I’d just taken a huge bite of my muffin. “Do you have ID silicone lube?" Mutely I nodded, trying to pretend my mouth wasn’t full.

I brought him over and managed to swallow before I had to talk. He started telling me how he and his wife run an escort service. He said the silicone was a necessity since things like K-Y and Astroglide gunk up on the girls. Half awake I tried to imagine casually telling people that I ran an escort service, just slipping it into coffee conversations.


The last older man takes the cake though. That’s a pun. He came in, looking nervous but determined. His posture was curled in and anxious. He strode up to me purposefully, grinning through gapped front teeth. “I’m looking for- I don’t know if I can say it." I looked at him patiently, “I’ve heard it all before." He shuffled, “I need a fake-" he covered his mouth, “vagina."

 It was like that one word unplugged his anxiety. He straightened up, radiating jovial interest. I led him to the men’s section, laughing at his previous discomfort. “Well, I was nervous! I said to my mom- she’s 76- I says to her, how can an old guy like me go in and ask that of these young women? And she told me, son, they’re professionals." I grinned, “Always listen to your mom." We went through different masturbators, I pointed out ones I thought would work best. It took him a while to convey that he was making a fully realistic woman cake. He ended up on one of the cyberskin ones with a full ass and vagina, and began detailing the process of making specialty cakes. He’d use hard cake for the rough structure, then shape meringue around to flesh her out, finally airbrushing and icing her. I asked excitedly if I could have pictures when it was done and he said he’d do me one better and provide a video. He said it would take roughly 19 hours to complete, but most customers wanted to see the process so they had a camera set up. He described the bachelorettes cake as a giant penis filled with icing that could be shot out of it. When he quoted the price of making them my eyebrows shot up and he grinned. “I’m the minister and the baker. It’s my sons best friend, known him his whole life, so I’m doing it gratis."

Lurking in Trees

I love people. I love that if you sit perfectly still you don't need to be camouflaged, you're just invisible. Being up in a tree helps.

For my walk today I wanted to go up a side trail that Molly and I left unexplored. It looked promisingly steep and well beaten without being frequently used. It starts with a series of roots, up into the undergrowth.

 I climbed up it, ducking under a felled tree on my way up only to find a burned out log and no trail. I sighed and turned to head back on my way when I saw that the log I'd ducked would be perfect to perch on, right over the main trail, shaded, and high enough that no one would see me.

Sometimes it's not about the walking. It's about being part of the forest. The spot was at the crux of three trails and as I sat I could hear far off splashes as people jumped into the falls, families calling and laughing but couldn't see anyone. I liked it. I decided to sit perfectly still and just be part of the forest for a while. I was looking down at the trail when a guy walked by with his dog. As he walked by he looked right up at me. Not wanting to appear threatening or creepy I smiled and said hi and watched him visibly startle. He'd been looking right at me but hadn't known I was there, and even after I said hi he clearly couldn't see me until I lifted my head. He looked put off and said a cursory hello then quickened his pace.

Aside from the guy who watched me walk into place no one else looked up or saw me. I swear I'm not a serial killer, but total I sat for about two hours just watching people go by. After a while I stopped sitting still. No one saw me, even if I was shuffling around while they went by. After a while I put my headphones back on and began singing. A hawk joined me in a duet and I watched its shadow move across the canopy as it circled overhead.

I noticed a spider overhead begin building a web. It was an appropriate distance away that I watched in fascination, singing on and off. I was focused on watching it when I startled a group below me. I'd started singing as they moved onto the lower trail and I saw them all jump out of the corner of my eye. I lowered my headphones and smiled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I'm watching a spider build a web." The two women and one of the men smiled at the odd person in the tree, but the last man scowled at me. "The park closes at 11, just so you know!" I blinked at him, then smiled and shrugged and put my headphones back on. It was three in the afternoon. I couldn't tell if he was implying I was a squatter, or that I'd sit watching a spider all day if he didn't warn me otherwise. His tone said clearly he didn't like being startled by people singing in trees, and that he wanted to assert some control.


I watched people go by multiple times, joggers and couples and a man on his phone with two dogs. I was singing as they went by. He never saw me, but both his dogs looked up and wagged their tails at me. After two hours I realized  I was starving and set out for home. As I was jumping down out of the root ladder I scared my final person of the day, making a guy jump into the air. I smiled apologetically without a word.

Adventures With Molly

This week has been a bonding experience with Molly (aside from locking her out of her house). She's been joining me on my walks. The first time I wasn't sure how adventurous I was feeling when we set out. When faced with a branch on the main trail I decided to explore down it. I asked Molly if she was up for it, and she insisted it was fine. We went down a ways to a steep incline. I asked again if she was okay on this trail, offering to turn around if she wasn't feeling terribly like scrambling down the slope. She insisted once again. So we slid and ducked and traversed our way down. Near the end  I looked down and said we might have to turn around, it was so steep I was concerned about coming back but she said we'd come this far. So we stumbled down to this lovely little bank on the river, with fallen trees and birds and butterflies. We sat and talked. Then we had to contemplate getting back up. The ground was loose scree over packed dry earth, with no easy hand holds. We sat and looked at it for a while, and finally I saw some handholds.

I scrambled my way up and told Molly to just do what I'd done. "I don't know what you did!" "You watched me do it!" "It's not the same as knowing how you did it." I tried to describe my leg positions and she stared up at me. "I'm gonna find a different way." I waited, offering to find a branch to pull her up.

She prowled up and down the bank looking like a caged tiger contemplating a jump that it wasn't quite certain of. She said no, and finally grabbed a nearby plant, pulling herself up after me. We were walking along a little later and she watched the way I went over a log, "You're like a wood elf, you have a touch of the forest in you." It was the most flattering thing anyone's ever said to me.

We went again, and I promised her we'd keep it mellow. There were a few times I drifted toward the more overgrown trails, but we kept to the main trail for almost all of it. I detoured a bit to show her a hidden face carved in the stones by the river. As we were meandering through the woods we saw an older woman tottering down the path. She had a younger woman on a smartphone accompanying her, paying her no attention. As we drew closer together the old woman was smiling at us with recognition. I assumed she must know Molly, but Molly was looking at me in confusion. "Hi!" the woman greeted us. "Hi..?" we both replied. Her companion looked up from her phone briefly to tell us, "She's just really happy." I looked back at the old woman and she grinned at us. "I'm getting old!" She said it like announcing she'd won bingo, and Molly and I awkwardly smiled and nodded and kept walking.

Our last shared experience happened at work. This old man came in, small and dressed in plaid. As he was ready to get rung up I stood at the register and he ignored me, handing his purchase to Molly who was standing off to the side. I blinked and stepped back.

She stood talking to him for a long time, and I was starting to pity her, since some customers trap you with their life stories. When he finally left I rolled my eyes then noticed she looked more shell shocked than annoyed. "What's up?" "Did you hear him?" I shook my head and she told me he'd been crying. That he had "turned gay" after having his prostate removed, and was reviling himself for his anti-gay sentiments when he was younger. He worried to her that his boyfriend wanted him to increase his nipple size with hormone treatments. But really the take away for me was, what a bitch, he was only gay AFTER his prostate was gone? Dude was missing out.

House Sitting

Maybe don't ask me to house sit for you.

My coworker Molly just went on vacation. She left me her house key so I could check on her cat. As soon as she put the key in my hand I started wondering what I was going to do to mess with her. I checked on her cat briefly, checking the food and water levels, then forgot I was trying to plan a prank. Today I got a text asking for the first clue, since I'd told her what I'd be doing was a scavenger hunt.

I swore, and said she'd have to wait for it. I headed to her place and went in to keep the cat company while I plotted. I also cleaned up a pile of cat puke, because I'm a good friend. I started by drawing a mermaid (Molly is crazy in love with mermaids, and I figure if I'm about to fuck with someone who just turned 21 and is getting home from Vegas I may as well make it worth her while with a doodle).

 I then tore the doodle neatly into three pieces, grabbed my sketchbook and locked up. I went through the hunt backwards, storing her key on her patio, in the drawer of her outdoor coffee table. Then I saw a likely tree and left the head of the mermaid with a clue tucked under a rusty nail bent into the trees bark.

 I counted out the steps from the tree to the parking lot when I stowed her midriff with a step count of 43 paces scrawled on it, then told her to look under a rock where the cars were looking for the first real clue.

Then I took a picture of her front step on snapchat telling her to start there, and placing the mermaid's tail under the doormat.

I figured, easy, it was a half-assed prank, but it'll take maybe five minutes. So I get her text around 8 that she had started looking. She texts me five minutes later asking if the cock was in her parking lot. I laughed, and texted back making fun of what I assumed was a typo. She then sends me this

and asks if that doesn't say "cock." I grouch at her that I was in a hurry, and that it says rock, but apparently she'd been hunting for phallic shaped trees for a while. So I think, okay, longer than I thought, but not ridiculous. But then after a while I get another text saying that 43 paces put her in sticker bushes. Was she meant to be in sticker bushes? I was starting to feel like a monster. No, I sent back, she picked the wrong direction to walk in. I looked at the clock and realized she'd  been on my stupid hunt for half an hour. I asked if she wanted to call it quits and she said no, just a hint. So I told her to walk the paces from the rock with her building parallel on her right. Luckily she found the tree clue okay, and the key shortly afterward.

I'm a great friend, let me watch your house for you.

Ocean Shores

When Lia and I were in high school we attended different schools. Her dad had a job teaching up north, so she went there. So seeing her was always a treat, usually reserved for the weekends, but we spent one glorious week together at Ocean Shores. I can't remember who owned the house we stayed at. I learned years later that Lia's mom had been worried what my mom would think of Lia's dad coming along. She pestered Lia to assure my mom that her dad wasn't a pedophile. Appalled, Lia refused. Her mom continued, "Her mom might be worried, but tell her he's a teacher, he had to pass tests to prove he's not a pedophile." Lia never brought the subject up to my mother, which I feel is for the best but I do wonder what those tests entailed. Whether they threw him in a room with a kid and monitored blood flow to his penis or asked a rapid series of questions trying to trick him into admitting it.

 When we went Lia admitted to me she was trying to break the habit of cracking her knuckles. She said she wasn't having much luck, and I offered my services. Every time I caught her, I'd smack her wrist. If she was wearing a hair band on her arm I'd use that, otherwise I'd just whack her with two fingers. Over the trip she started to learn. On our way home, she looked over to see that I was sleeping, snuggled up against the window, facing her with my eyes closed. Sneakily, she cracked her knuckles only to look over at me and see me glaring at her with one eye open. In the face of my disapproval she extended her wrist and I smacked her smugly.

That was also the trip we went to see Snakes on a Plane. Overall there hadn't been much to do, the beaches, sky and sand were all uniformly grey, and her parents were fairly staid in their activities. We jumped at the chance to see an R rated movie at a tiny one room theater in town. We brought popped bags of popcorn and stuffed them into our sweatshirts, pretending to be pregnant. A blind gorilla wouldn't have been fooled, but they let us bring them in. Throughout the movie, both being animal buffs, Lia and I kept laughing that the only real snakes were nonvenomous. The man in front of us told us, "Shut up, you're ruining this for me!" We sniggered to ourselves, and laughed loudly at the cg ripple when the snake launched itself at the woman's breast.

It was a good trip, until her dog ate my toothbrush.

Creepers

When I tell people where I work the number one response (besides mortification) is, "You must meet a lot of weirdos." And for the most  part that's not the case, it's not weird to want sex toys. But I do meet some creepers, every now and then.

Yesterday was all sorts of creeper. The first creeper who came in was a homeless man who bore an unsettling resemblance to Santa. He parked his cart of hobo things out front and came in. He didn't set off as many warning bells as he could have because he didn't smell like caked piss and dirt, and spoke sanely enough. So we let him wander, pawning him off on Christian. I went to help a bachelorette party and forgot about him. I was involved for a good long while and when I finished I saw that Christian had texted me, despite being two feet away. I read that he and Kat were about to call the police because the homeless man was touching himself. I look over. He's standing at books, obviously reading rather than flipping through and see a quick motion. I say that the cops should be called only if he wouldn't leave, and told Christian to ask him to stop. Christian and Kat both look at me helplessly. "Seriously?" I asked. Christian refused point blank and Kat hefted the phone so I made a face and headed over to him. "I'm sorry sir, we do have a time limit as to how long you can read books." He looks at me with a bland smile, "Oh but it's a really good book." I grimace a smile, "That's why it's a rule." I walked away. He stayed looking at the book for another minute, then left the store.

Later it was just me and Kat, and three young Mexican guys came in. I came back from my lunch as they were coming up to the counter. I had just leaned in against the counter when one asked, "Are you ladies ready?" It was such an odd question that I looked over at Kat, and we both look at them perplexed. "Ready?" Kat asked. He points over his shoulder to our dressing rooms and both of our hackles rise at the perceived insult. It's possible, barely, that there was a miscommunication, that the young man was not in fact propositioning us like we were prostitutes. Perhaps he was joking, or perhaps he thought they were public booths we had to let them into. But I seriously fucking doubt it. Both of our expressions became glacial, and we both tense because it's two small females against three young males. I was mentally measuring the distance to the box cutters while Kat gave a brittle laugh and said, "Those are the dressing rooms."

 They didn't comment as they were rung up for a bottle of flavored lubricant. I was staring stonily ahead and slightly away, but one of the guys moved closer to me and stared at me fixedly. I refused to make eye contact, and radiated hostility at him. He kept staring, and finally asked, "Are you having a nice day?" I turned to him, all bubbles and sunshine. "Yeah, it was so sunny out, the drive in was great." I grinned at him with all my teeth showing, and he gave an uncomfortable smile and stepped back a pace.

 As they were leaving they bid us all good night and he turned back for a last look at me before proceeding out the door. We relaxed and then exploded with irritation. I've had people ask what I expect, working where I do. But does a grocery clerk get asked to prepare a meal? Does a car salesman act as your chauffeur? It's a goddamn retail job.Were we ready? Ready to kick some ass.

Leg Tumors

Me and exercise have only a passing acquaintance. The most fit I’ve ever been was senior year of high school in my aerobics class. Being skinny isn’t the same as being fit.

My new obsession with taking walks and being active has been something of a surprise to me and all of my friends, and has had some side effects. I noticed recently that there was something different about my calves, and leaning to inspect them my first thought was, “Is that a tumor?" I’m not joking. I’ve never had enough muscle to register it flexing before, totally novel experience which makes me question my life choices thus far.

The Pickle

Makl made himself a sandwich. It was a work of art, and he served it to himself with a stack of potato chips and a pickle. And when he sat near me on the couch, as we both look over at Isaac's computer, I wanted to steal his pickle. So I waited until he leaned over to point at something on the screen, and reached over, nipping off the end and putting it back hurriedly.

 I waited with a little smirk for him to comment, but to my surprise he said nothing. When he looked back down at his plate he seemed a little confused, but didn't mention it. He even took a bite of the pickle. Wondering if I was somehow being double pranked I stole another bite when he turned again, and again, meet with no complaint.

I keep looking over at him to see if he's noticing anything at all odd with his pickle. At one point he got up to go upstairs. I leave only a tiny little end-cap of pickle left on his plate, thinking that surely he would say something about it.

 He came back downstairs, took a few bites of sandwich, and finished off the pickle. I couldn't stand it. "Didn't you notice I was stealing your pickle?!" He looks surprised, "You were?" I start laughing now, because it's clear he was just being oblivious, "You didn't even get to take the first bite! I thought for sure you would say something!" "I was wondering why there was so little pickle left, I kept thinking that I hadn't been getting as much as was gone, but what was I gonna say? Which of you is eating my pickle? Goddamn it, now I need another pickle!" He gets up and retrieves one. I watch him for signs of unwariness out of the corner of my eye, but he's obviously onto my games now and glares at me from across the couch. Finally, his sandwich has only a few bites left, there's two lonely chips, and a tiny end-cap of pickle. He's looking at the screen and I dart out and grab the last bite of pickle off his plate, laughing triumphantly. "That was gonna be my last bite!" I grin at him, "You thought you were safe, but you're not. I could have stolen the chips, but I didn't." "Oh, do you want the chips? I'm done with those." "No." "Goddamn it."

DOMA

So with all the times I've been sitting in the vets office lately, I started getting some facial recognition with the regulars. One morning my mom drove up from down south, and we had to sit and wait for a while. She wanted to know what had happened with Taylor and I sighed and started talking. Every so often I'd look up and see this older woman clearly eavesdropping. She had a little smile on her face as if to say "Ah, young love." It was galling, but I was using female gender pronouns and she wasn't acting appalled so I just forgot about her.

When I came to pick Leeloo up from getting her wound stapled shut the woman was waiting there again. I nodded politely at her, and she took it as an opening. "You've been here a lot this week." I grimace, "Hopefully this is the last time." "Did you hear the news?" I blinked at her, and shook my head. "About DOMA being repealed?" "Oh! Yeah, it was all over my Facebook, it's awesome. They repealed Prop 8 in California too." She smiled contentedly, "You must be so thrilled!" I tilted my head a little, not really sure what she was talking about. "I couldn't help but overhear you talking to your mom the other day." It clicked in my head and I wanted to laugh at her. She clearly wanted to tell someone that she was supportive of gay rights, but lacking any gay friends she'd chosen to congratulate a random stranger. She didn't seem to find it weird that she was commenting on my sexual orientation without knowing me, but at least she wasn't scowling at me from a corner calling me a heathen.