Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Overheard at the gym
Is it a full moon? It must be a full moon.
Two white-haired guys in the locker room: one in his 70s, buck naked, drying himself off from the shower, the other in his sixties, neatly dressed, trying to make his escape.
Naked guy: The politics in this country, I just don’t know.
Escapee: It’s always been crazy.
Naked guy: No, you don’t understand. It’s just this century* people got greedy. Time past — what, for 19,000 years? — all people cared about was getting enough to eat. Now they care about cars.
Escapee: Well, no, it’s just the same. They’d fight about getting two hunks of meat instead of one, that’s all. People are the same.
Naked guy: It’s all different now.
And to emphasize his point, I shit you not, he grabbed his package and gestured with it. Whereupon the escapee made good on his escape.
At the treadmills, two women, friends I guess (but you should have heard the one bitch out the other for being late to the gym), no descriptions tendered because when people are living caricatures, accurate description would seem cartoonish. Call them woman one and woman two.
One: Do you know what my Message from God** was today?
Two: Your huh?
One: My Message from God. Check out my MySpace. My Message from God was, “Change comes [and here she paused for dramatic effect. Or maybe to catch her breath] whether you want it or not.” I tell ya, it’s amazing. Almost every day, my Message from God speaks to me. It’s where I’m at nearly every time.
Two: Well why shouldn’t God use MySpace to talk to you? God can use anything.
(Personally, I would opt for the burning bush or wrestler-angel. Much less ambiguity than a social networking app, don’t you think?)
One: Sometimes He uses people to talk to me.
Two: Oh, yeah! All the time!
People these days, I just don’t know. In my day we read horoscopes. (I grab my crotch for emphasis.)
D.
*He seemed oblivious to the fact that our century is a scant ten years old.
** She really did talk in hyperlinks. You could have knocked me over.
While listening to catholic talk radio while driving to school to pick up Jake, I’ve learned that crazed christians equate faith with truth. Hence, their belief system becomes their objective “reality”. I wonder how many saints were unmedicated schizophrenics.
The crotch-grab lets people know you really mean it. Did Message From God woman grab her crotch? ‘Cause if not, she was just blowing smoke.
Heh. She and her friend were behind me. They might both have grabbed their crotches, I would never know.
I love eavesdropping on strangers like that. It’s fantastic fodder for books, lemme tells ya. 😀 You just can’t make that shit up.
I’m still imagining a wrestle with a angel…
Sometimes I wish I could shout to all the old guys at my gym who are still wearing those really short and tiny gym/running shorts that were popular in the 70’s “I CAN SEE YOUR BALLS!!” or “I CAN SEE YOUR BUTT CRACK!!!”
Kris: yup, being a snoop certainly comes in handy.
Lyvvie: you know, like Old Testament Jacob? You don’t have to picture it. Gustav Dore pictured it for you.
Lucie, I’m just tickled when they wear deodorant.
I’m pretty sure it’s also served as the plot device for more than one gay pr0n flick.
Would you call that theophilia or deiphilia? Either way, there’s a kink I’ve not heard of before!
I don’t think it’s really a kink per se, any more than any other sexual cosplay… The ones I remember were gothic-y, angel/demon/gargoyle-themed flicks.
. . . and here I thought Japanese tentacle sex porn was outre.
I was leaning towards the kink and not any real UFC kind of angel throwdown.