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A sign like this
would've been appreciated |
This weekend is going down in our history.
Have you ever experienced one of those moments is life when, as you were living it - experiencing it - you knew you would always refer back to it as, "Remember the weekend when dot dot dot"? Both Doc H and I felt it, lived it, and appreciated it.
This weekend will go down in our history as "Remember the weekend when we ran into all the penises?"
I kid you not.
Other than LB's little boyhood dingy, and his father's schlong, I haven't seen a non-family ding-a-ling in over a decade. That is, until Doc H and I went on our "date" day this past Saturday and I experienced penises galore.
The day began innocently enough. We drove out of town and literally stumbled upon a fantastic restaurant with fantastic views. We were able to get a table within fifteen minutes without a reservation.
One blood orange mimosa, organic spinach and chard omelet with roasted fingerling potatoes, and a chocolate tort later, Doc H and I headed out to explore. We had no specific plans except to enjoy the day.
We headed out, finding ourselves at a popular park which was filled with people. Dads were flying kites, kids were tossing baseballs, young couples were tossing frisbees, joggers passed us by, dogs happily ran about chasing their balls and sticks, couples walked by us hand in hand, engaged couples were holding their kisses long enough for their photographer to get the perfect engagement photo. It was a beautiful setting.
Doc H was busy photographing the natural beauty of the setting, while I caddied for him. I was his "lens" girl. Doc H was having fun, and I was having fun. We were having fun together.
All was good in our world.
Then Doc H suggested we walk toward the end of the park, so he could get the "perfect" shot.
So, we did.
As we approached the far end of the park, I noticed a a guy, standing at the farthest end. He wore a navy sweatshirt, baseball cap, shades, and what I thought was a tiger-striped Speedo. I thought it odd, but I've seen crazier outfits, so I didn't put much though into it.
And then we got closer.
And closer.
And closer.
As soon as I realized there was no Speedo, I hear Doc H, "...UGH!!! God!!!"
We immediately started laughing, but had to try to hold it together since we were now basically right in front of the man as he stood free and swinging.
We hung a hard left and veered away.
Doc H wanted to climb up a rocky path in order to capture the perfect photo. I began to follow, but halfway through the schlep, I decide I had to stay true to myself and my shoes, and told him to go on without me. I had to turn back. My shoes were being torn to shreds.
As I turned back and began my descent, I found a short squat man had laid a blanket in the middle of my path. My heartbeat quickened as I instinctively knew what was about to happen. There with me only a short five feet away from him, he dropped his shorts.
What I saw blinded me and rendered me speechless.
I continued on and waited for Doc H.
Doc H was astonished and asked if I had seen the short-squat's hairy ass.
I told him, thankfully, I had not. The full frontal assault on my vision which I had just endured was quite enough.
In case you were wondering, neither nudist resembled an underwear model.
We laughed the rest of weekend. Especially when we returned home, downloaded Doc H's photos and realized he had taken a wide angle, high def, photo of the park. Guess who was there in the lower right hand corner?
That's right...
Penis #1 standing strong... standing proud.
