I have wandering eyes. It’s virtually impossible for me to stop looking at everything and everyone around me. Sometimes people think I’m staring too long at them and they get a tad nervous; afraid of what’s lurking behind my look; afraid of what I might do.
If they only knew!
I’m usually creating a funny scenario about them, a character analysis of who I think they are. Sometimes tragic life-stories. Sometimes international adventure life-stories. Sometimes sexual kink stories that may or may not involve me.
The other day I was at a stoplight and my wandering eyes saw something dangling from the telephone wires above me. It was red. It glittered in the sunlight. It made me pull out my camera.
Hanging from the telephone wires above traffic was a pair of Ruby Red high-heeled shoes and a cut-out of a red trophy. I guffawed loudly. I’m sure it sounded like a major fart, but it really was a guffaw from my mouth.
How did they get there... and why?
Could they possibly be the “real” ruby shoes from “The Wizard of Oz”? Maybe Dorothy didn’t go back to Kansas after all? Maybe she lives in my neighborhood?
Maybe the ruby red shoes belong to a drag queen who was so proud she won the Ryan Seacrest hosted Drop-Dead Gorgeous Divinely Drag Gala contest at the Holiday Inn that she strung her shoes and trophy together with her support hose and tossed them over the telephone wire for all the world to see? Would her drag name be Dorothy Gale or Ruby Red or Barbara Bush?
What size could those shoes possibly be? 6? 7? 11 1/2?
I think the owner of the shoes has to be one fun gal who wears too much make up, has hair teased so high it looks like an erection, loves to cha-cha all night long, drinks way too many martinis, has a deep smoky voice and a bosom to match, loves torch songs and alibis, drives a huge red cadillac convertible, and thinks of herself as a D-I-V-A.
I was lost in my reverie and as the stoplight turned green I couldn’t help but thing there’s no place like home... there’s no place like home...
If they only knew!
I’m usually creating a funny scenario about them, a character analysis of who I think they are. Sometimes tragic life-stories. Sometimes international adventure life-stories. Sometimes sexual kink stories that may or may not involve me.
The other day I was at a stoplight and my wandering eyes saw something dangling from the telephone wires above me. It was red. It glittered in the sunlight. It made me pull out my camera.
Hanging from the telephone wires above traffic was a pair of Ruby Red high-heeled shoes and a cut-out of a red trophy. I guffawed loudly. I’m sure it sounded like a major fart, but it really was a guffaw from my mouth.
How did they get there... and why?
Could they possibly be the “real” ruby shoes from “The Wizard of Oz”? Maybe Dorothy didn’t go back to Kansas after all? Maybe she lives in my neighborhood?
Maybe the ruby red shoes belong to a drag queen who was so proud she won the Ryan Seacrest hosted Drop-Dead Gorgeous Divinely Drag Gala contest at the Holiday Inn that she strung her shoes and trophy together with her support hose and tossed them over the telephone wire for all the world to see? Would her drag name be Dorothy Gale or Ruby Red or Barbara Bush?
What size could those shoes possibly be? 6? 7? 11 1/2?
I think the owner of the shoes has to be one fun gal who wears too much make up, has hair teased so high it looks like an erection, loves to cha-cha all night long, drinks way too many martinis, has a deep smoky voice and a bosom to match, loves torch songs and alibis, drives a huge red cadillac convertible, and thinks of herself as a D-I-V-A.
I was lost in my reverie and as the stoplight turned green I couldn’t help but thing there’s no place like home... there’s no place like home...
Comments