So, this past July, I turned twenty-five. Normal adult people would have went out for a nice quiet dinner with a little bit of wine and toasting to their adulthood. Not me. I had a little mermaid cake, attempted to hire a little person to follow me around for a night, got a whip from one of my best friends as a gag gift, broke it that night and then got kicked out of a bar for beating the shit out of someone with a blowup doll. Which one sounds better to you? Here's my story:
It was a couple days before my birthday and I was at my wits end. I pretty much gave up on my one true wish that I wanted to come true for my 25th: to have a little person dress up as a fairy, party with me and throw glitter in the air when someone walks by. Childish? Maybe. But, don't tell me it doesn't sound amazing.
I had called just about every "rent-a-dwarf" company I could find on the Internet. (Yes, they truly do exist.) But, no one was available for my time period. I was almost as desperate enough to go on the "Little People Dating Site." ...Okay, I'll tell the truth, I browsed on the site to see if there was anyone nearby. No luck. So, I did what any person does when they don't get what they want: I went to the sex store and bought two midget blowup dolls.
As I went into the neighborhood sex store to get them, I went straight to the "WTF" aisle. You know what I'm talking about. Pocket Vaginas <---- I want to meet someone who has bought one of those and shake their hand. Ehh, cross out the shaking of the hand part. 15 inch black dildo <----- I guess to test the theory of "Once you go black, you never go back" One word: Ouch. A vibrator that has a mirror on it, but looks like a tube of lipstick. <----Yeahhh, the day I put that in my purse and have one of my friends ask to borrow some lipstick. ...Anyways, after going passed all that junk, I came across the blowup dolls. BINGO! We had hit the mother load, boys and girls.
As I'm trying to figure out why anyone would want a "Snookie Blowup Doll" I felt this feeling like I was being watched. Sure enough, creeper at 2 o'clock staring right at me in the hallway from the viewing booths. Yay! I was frickin thrilled.
As I was deciding on a blonde little person or a brunette little person, I noticed the creepy man continued on staring.
Me being, well...Me, I stared right back and said "Umm, Hi?"
Big Mistake.
As I looked over at him, I noticed he was probably in his late forties, had a wedding ring on, his fly was down, and he looked like he climbed out of a trash can, went in the sewer and then went back in the trash can. In my mind I named him Oscar.
He had a strong hillbilly accent, so bear with me...
Oscar: "Yew gonna have sum fun tonight, are ya? Huh? Huh?"
I looked at him again puzzled at his comment, forgetting where I was, and then noticing I was standing by a 15 inch black dildo and had a blowup doll in my hands.
In his eyes it looks like I was going to be having one hell of a party.
Me: "No, this is just for my birthday party." ...After saying that, I realized how that could have sounded.
Oscar walked closer: "Omph. Am I invited to this here partay yew cellbrating? Yew turning sixteen? Seventeen? How many spankins will there be? Are you bad? Huh? Huh?"
After I looked at him with the look I give which means "You have got to be kidding me." (I'm told it's a curl of my top lip. It's a pretty known look I give.) Anyways, as soon as I gave him that look a couple of the huge ass dildos fell off the shelf in front of him, one hitting him on the foot. That was cue for me to escape. Thank you, Sex Store Gods! I grabbed a male and female midget blowup dolls and scooted out of there.
As I headed home to get ready and blow some air in those dolls, that's when the real chaos began...
to be continued...
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