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Richard reported that in the late 1970s he needed to make a purchase. According to what he told us, tight pink pants were very "in" for men to be wearing at the time and he was not to be left out. So, since Richard was a manly man who worked in auto parts and was one cool dude during the 1970s, he needed to get himself a pair of tight pink pants.

Although tight pink pants were all the rage according to Richard's report, they could only be purchased at a small store downtown. This small clothing and accessory store was staffed by and shopped in exclusively by a certain clientele.

"Only the brothers went to this store," Richard told us. Being one of the most uptight, not to mention one of the whitest people we'd ever come to know, we found the story becoming interesting at this point.

"And you shopped there?"

"I had to in order to get tight pink pants."

"And did you?"

"Yeah, I did. There was no way I was going to have people looking at me funny because I was the only guy around not wearing tight pink pants."

"Are you sure everyone in the late 1970s was wearing pink pants?"

"Just that one summer. I think it was 1977."

"So guys, regular guys, were all wearing pink pants in the summer of 1977?"

"Damn straight."

I believe in miracles...
Where'd you come from?
You sexy thing.

She was young, blonde and confused. Life was a bit overwhelming for her and she had serious issues with self-esteem. She blamed herself for what other people had gone through if her actions had in any way related to their troubles.

Her brother had done time in jail when she was a teenager. She had reported to her mother that her brother had demanded and forced her to perform oral sex upon his person. After getting out of jail, he had become depressed and self-destructive. He became a heroin junkie, in and out of jail and otherwise living on the streets or in drug houses. She blamed herself for his situation, believing that if she had never reported what he had done to her then he would have gone on to have a normal and happy life.

"All that he went through, all that shit, I blame myself. If only I had just kept my mouth shut, none of this would have ever happened to him."

I was trying to be supportive, and in some small way I was a part of her coming to the realization that she could not hold herself accountable for what other people did. At the same time, I found myself holding back a nervous and insidious laugh, the curse of living a life where I find everything amusing.

"It wasn't your fault he did that to you. It wasn't your fault he screwed you up as emotionally as he did to where you blame yourself for what he did to you. If he's feeling remorse and guilt to the point where he's trying to destroy himself over what he did to you, then maybe you can take some solace in that making him human in the end."

If only she had just kept her mouth shut.

I've never felt so wrong about laughing at something in my entire life.

I believe in miracles...
Where'd you come from?
You sexy thing.

It started as a fairly enjoyable Halloween party with the folks I worked with. Our host was a gentleman named Rick who was engaged to be married. His fiancee was our hostess, and within the first hour of the party it became clear to us that she intended to get blind, stinking drunk in front of all of her future husband's co-workers.

"I was raped once, you know," she gurgled to us as her headlights began to dim.

"Wow. I'm really sorry to hear that."

"I was raped by a woman. She was at my health club and she was a bruiser."

"What happened?"

"She wore a strap-on in the shower and just came after me, but I was drunk and didn't feel anything."

"You were drunk at the health club? Are you sure this really happened?"

"Fuck yeah, it really happened! What's the matter, you assholes don't think you can be raped by a woman?"

"No, we just aren't sure why you were drunk at a health club. That's the part we're really struggling with."

She stood up and began screaming and making obscene gestures in our direction. Then she fell backwards onto a glass coffee table, which shattered. There was blood everywhere and we had to restrain her and inspect her injuries, all of which were thankfully superficial, before Rick put her to bed.

Richard of the pink pants walked over and immediately told us, "She was raped by a woman? That would be really cool, don't you think?"

I believe in miracles...
Where'd you come from?
You sexy thing.

Heather was a strange waitress who worked at the bar I like to call my church. She would often talk to me and complain about people's perception of her as a loose woman who slept with any man who paid attention to her. She also complained about how everyone thought she was high all the time and didn't take her job seriously.

"At least you understand and don't judge me based on the things people say about me."

"That's just the way I am."

"You're so cool. Hey, I'm due for a break soon, and I have a joint in my car. You wanna come out and smoke it with me? I'm like completely losing my buzz and my shift isn't even half over."

"Let me think about it."

"Oh, and I'm getting off at ten o'clock. I think you're really cute, so if you want to come back to my place with me tonight, I won't turn you down."

I believe in miracles...
Where'd you come from?
You sexy thing.

Richard of the pink pants had many tales he liked to tell us, from how he once owned all of Foreigner's albums and had bought them all on the day they were released, to the strange and sordid tale of one evening with his former girlfriend who he referred to only as "Pain in the Ass." The story was never meant to explain why he called her that, and no matter how often he told us this story, which was quite often, he never made the connection.

"So, one night I was over at Pain in the Ass' apartment and I was asleep. While I am sleeping, she gets this eight inch dildo and greases it up with vaseline..."

Okay, why does he know how large the dildo in question in?

"...And she starts shoving it into my butt while I am sleeping and I start to wake up just as she's getting the whole thing in there..."

Okay, why didn't he wake up earlier?

"...And I turn around and ask her why she is doing this because it seems like a really weird thing to do to your boyfriend, but she just kept pushing it up in there no matter how strongly I asked her not to."

Further comment withheld.

Honestly, I've never come to terms with that story. It haunts me to this day because I don't understand it. Then again, Richard of the pink pants once failed to show up for a concert we were going to. We waited for him for an hour and he never showed up. The next week at work he wouldn't talk to us.

You see, he was angry with us because he hadn't shown up for the concert.

Really.

I believe in miracles...
Where'd you come from?
You sexy thing.

All of these stories are true. At the very least they are as they were reported to this reporter over the years. Some minor details have been changed in such a way so as to protect the innocent.

Rape is a serious crime of violence which I take quite seriously.

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