return to the scene of the crime

this could very well be a flashback…

…then again, it might not be.

sadly, i’m not sure. thanks to the billing fuck-up this time last year (somebody remind me to call the fatcow folks THIS WEEK) we lost 1,500 archives, and i was only able to rescue about 500 of them (or more – found a disc i need to check at kramer’s later this week) but either way, even if i had done this bit, it didn’t come with CRIME SCENE PHOTOS…

(and these were not easy to get, almost got me arrested, and TOTALLY got me made fun of by my girl benita, but never mind all that now…)

so, i am in desperate need of a tv. i have pledged to myself that by my birthday, provided i also have enough to get me to vegas (and all of this, of course, hinges on me getting a job), i will get a 42″ LCD for the bedroom. this will replace a philips that i don’t know the carbon date on, but i DO know my mom used to watch it, and she passed away thirteen years ago this month.

the “newer” one is a sony trinitron that i don’t know the carbon date of, but i know i had the first remote that came with it killed by jen’s boxer, and the replacement was killed by buffi…jen moved out april of ’99, but i picked it up in her (our) buddy steven’s truck, and i didn’t meet him till september of ’97, so it’s at least a decade old (since i had it before she moved in in january of ’99) but no more than eleven years and some change old…

…but i’m over analyzing dates here. let’s go back to that fateful day in SA…

(…and later we’ll look at why EvERYTHING fucked up in my life seems to take place in SA)

i found a great deal on a sony, it was only at dillard’s (southern department store chain) and the only one in the area was down in SA (and i think steven needed something there, too) so we were off to a then somewhat (now very) ghetto mall in SA…

(…which oddly enough i ended up at on make-up v-day after the real v-day got cancelled due to illness)

we went and bought the tv, but then you had to pull around to a different part of the mall to pick it up off the dillard’s dock – and on the way we went by the food court and i hit the bathroom. that’s where the problem started.

the set up there is weird – no privacy wall between the urinals so you can see everything, which is where the problem really started…’cause moments after i stepped up to the adult height urinal (green dot) a kid stepped up to the kid height urinal (red dot)


behind the child stepped his proud father, who was playing the role of the supportive dad, standing behind his boy while he whizzed with this hand on his shoulder. as kids are naturally inquisitive, the young ‘un looked over to his side where my (twice pierced) junk was at eye level – and out of the blue, he pointed, his arm locked with pointer finger extended, and he practically shrieked,

“daddy, what’s THAT?!?!?!?

instant panic came over his dad’s face. his eyes locked with mine – that total guy-bonding dad look that says, “dude, he NEVER does this…” he looked down at his son, but as the boys arm and finger were still extended (and centimeters from my junk as a result) his dad’s glance started at the top of his boy’s head, but naturally follwed the arm, hand, and finger to where you heard was…

“son, don’t point…that’s just that man’s OH MY GOD!!!!

(the latter part in bold coming out in exagerated volume as he saw the steel through…welll…you know)

they say a guy can’t stop piss from flowing once it starts – BULLSHIT! i was done up and out of there iin no time. steven found me in a booth in the food court. he had fresh cookies. i didn’t partake. we went, picked up the tv, and i got out of sa – never been back to that mall till the other day.

(i figured that was a safe amount of time – a decade. that’s okay,right?!?!? wonder if either (or both) of them ended up in thearpy…)