A week ago Bishop & I had the opportunity to go someplace, just the two of us, & enjoy an adult beverage. In my case it was several beverages. It felt like complete freedom. The opportunity to go to a sports bar, drink some beers, discuss baseball, & forget about crap for at least an hour.
When we first arrived at our bar stools I noticed that the juices used for mixed drinks in the fridge had these plastic phallic looking things on the top of them. Being the mature adult that I am I instantly felt the need to take a picture, post it on twitter, & make the comment that the bar put penises on their juice. I also felt this mature need to ask where I could get a penis juice topper.
Not finding an opportunity to take a penis topper photo I settled back into a few tall beers & baseball discussion.
Nothing turns me on more then great baseball talk. Not only am I an adult with a penis juice topper fetish but I can’t listen to baseball sports radio or have a related talk without sporting a woman woody. Yes. I am that mature.
After a while two young, rednecky (I made that word up…rednecky….it should be a real word. Just saying.) saddled (see what I did there? “Saddled”. “Rednecky”. OK. I’ll stop.) on up to the bar. Completely ignoring them I finished my third tall beer (Yes. I am lying. It was more then three.) It was at this moment that I finally got my opportunity to take a picture of the penis juice topper. I just, politely, asked the bartender if she could pull out the bottle so I could look at the top.
I am a stealthy ninja.
I made the comment that it looked like a dildo to the delight of the two rednecky individuals sitting next to me. Many laughs & comments on how the juice looked like “cum” were made by them. Not really giving a shit what they thought I was OK with the fact that I had made some ones dirty joke evening. I’m a people person. (I’m lying again. I am not a people person.)
On our way out of the bar Bishop made the comment that they were the sons of some fellas who lived in a small town next to ours. I asked Bishop if he was uncomfortable with my comment on the penis juice topper. He wasn’t. Like me, Bishop really doesn’t give a shit what people think or who someone is. He says & does whatever he feels like. He did, however, know that they might make that joke to someone else in the future, that it will get around, blah blah blah. Being the not a people person I am I really don’t give a shit. So I made some rednecky young guys laugh. Good for them.
This got me thinking about small communities in the country where we live. I’ve lived here for ten years and have never lost my big city mentality. You don’t talk to strangers. You don’t give a shit what anyone thinks about you. You keep your own personal business to yourself. Alas it doesn’t work that way in the country. Everyone knows everyone and people love to talk around here. This could be the biggest reason that I don’t speak to people. It’s probably just the fact that I don’t give a crap and I am not a people person. I don’t care if you are the son of some big guy who owns a lot of land. I don’t care if your cousin was the bartender. I also don’t really care what you think.
Togetherness & community isn’t a bad thing. Knowing lots of people is good. But not being yourself because a rednecky young fella might tell his pa a gal made a dirty joke at the bar isn’t me. So…I’ll keep making my penis juice topper jokes, cursing like a drunken sailor, & being me. You can take the girl out of the city, give her a chicken as a pet, & teach her to drive stick but you can’t take the city way of thinking out of her.
You shouldn’t have to.