The Fetish

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The Fetish

Post by Ray »

It had been a busy morning on the fork lift and I was really feeling it as I had missed both the 0830 break and lunch as well. So when there was a lull in the semi-trailers to unload I swung by the break-room and grabbed something out of a geedunk vending machine to replenish blood sugar. There I was gnoshing on crisps while shaking the machine trying to un-jam a chocolate bar that I had paid for when an unpleasant voice from my past snuck-up behind me and I almost jumped out of my skin.

There, in the flesh was James Dudley.

Now I had all but forgotten telling when was the last time I had thought of him. He was a grating, annoying type of fellow.....quickly getting on your nerves.....exasperating, I think is the word that I'm trying to think of.

Part of it was his dual-quality, raspy voice.....variable between baritone froggy and shrill, wheedling tenor. Imagine an unholy trinity of the vocal negatives of the cigarette hoarseness of Tallulah Bankhead crossed with Irene Ryan in character as "granny" crossed with Kate Hepburn. Forgive the use of feminine examples but those were the most accurate vocal descriptions I could think of.

The other, and main source of his offensiveness was his loud potty-mouth and his penchant for crude, rude, lewd, obscene, perverse, profane, and vulgar speech and behavior. For example, when greeting, instead of "how-do-you-doing", he would loudly ask, with a larking elbow jab to the ribs and an insinuating wink, "you getting any ?" Didn't matter who might be with you with their tender ears or feminine sensitivities, he would ask just the same.

Then when parting, instead of a wave of the hand and the customary "so long" or "see ya", he would make an exaggerated, pronounced example of the universal obscene gesture and mutter "sit on it !" in that grating voice with a racious laugh. Again, didn't matter who was with you. Most embarrassing, he was !

Also, he could, and, more often than not, would say the most inappropriate things at the most inopportune times. Mentioning stillbirths or siamese twins in a maternity ward waiting room or embalming technique specifics during a funeral home visitation were not unusual examples.

And here he was, a very elderly James Dudley wearing janitorial livery in the breakroom of a japanese owned automotive components manufactory. I knew him to be a widower and long ago retired but he explained that loneliness and boredom had prompted him hireing-on at the plant in a part-time capacity, filling the billet of breakroom and vending machine attendant.

Despite his annoying, embarrassing nature, me and Dudley had always got-along well. Back in the day he crewed truck #14 as a water meter reader for our city's utilities when I worked on a sewer crew. I hoped that through old acquaintance I might net some free geedunk with expired dates or damaged packaging. At the very least, I expected to be reimbursed the wasted coins spent on stuck and jammed chocolate bars.

Small world but working there with us was another old acquaintance in the person of the Reverend Jerry Ryder. Our fair city's yarn mill and main employer had finally closed after over 150 years of continual operation. Jerry was one of those 700 displaced workers, quite a few of which wound-up hiring-on at the parts plant. Dudley and Brother Jerry renewed their old friendship and, surprisingly became best buds.

Now Brother Jerry took it as a personal responsibility and mission from on high to endeavour to convert Dudley into a a born-again disciple of Christ. I never heard for sure if that precious gospel seed ever fell on fertile soil and had taken root but there was no doubt that Dudley's evil ways were moderated somewhat. Still wont to swear a bit, he certainly abated profanities and blasphemies but there was one offensive behavior that he could not or would not shake. Dudley was forever more gawking-at and ogling the young ladies at work, saying the lewdest, crudest things in their hearing. But his biggest obsession by far was the subject of the so-called "camel toe"......that is to say, the intentional and obvious printing of the external female genitalia through tight shorts or trousers or even scantier undergarments or bathing suits, etc.

Like I said earlier, Brother Jerry and Dudley got to be best buds. At some point, Dudley acquired some pharmaceutical samples of erectile disfunction medications and shared them with Brother Jerry. As dangerous and probably illegal as that sounds, it is far more common than you would think. If you observe a man of a certain age suspiciously passing something hand to hand to another man of a similar age then it is probably not an exchange of illicit narcotics but instead a well-known "men's health" pill.
So there came a holiday and three day weekend when the Brother Jerry, armed with a little blue pill, was expected to test its efficacy..... obviously depending on mrs. jerry's cooperation.

Lunchtime the following tuesday we met in the breakroom. Over headcheese with mustard on whole wheat for me and p.b.& j. on white for Brother Jerry, Dudley impatiently asked the results of the experiment.

Brother Jerry sheepishly explained, "we shoe-horned her into her old high school cheerleader costume. It took quite a bit of effort but it was well worth it !" Jerry was about to go into more detail when Dudley made a queer, unnatural groaning. The mental image of the good reverend's wife, still attractive at nigh-on sixty years of age, donning scant, undersized clothing must have been too much for him. Sensory overload, if you will. Right before our eyes, his ears seemed to grow points and his eyes eerily reddened. A hairy, claw-like hand grasped Jerry's shirt-front and a hoarse, seemingly disembodied voice shrilly croaked, "Did she camel-toe ?"

Over and over, almost maniacal, he gibbered, "did she camel-toe ?"

Jerry was taken aback and looked to me. "What's he talking about ?"

I leaned across the table and whispered to Jerry the mechanics of the so-called "camel-toe".

He turned a neon beet-red, blinking like the nose of the cartoon reindeer on the telly and nervously tugged at his shirt collar. With a lowered voice so as not to reach the ears of the neighbouring old biddies nosily looking our way, Jerry answered Dudley's query of "did she camel-toe?".....

" Naw. It was more like a taco shell than anything else !"
m.A.g.a. !
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Re: The Fetish

Post by piller »

I thought the camel toad was that frog thing the Australians imported from Hawaii to try and fix some insect issue. They now sit outside in the evenings and shoot them with pellet guns. :oops:
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Re: The Fetish

Post by Blaine »

My, Oh My. :lol: :lol: :lol:
Studies Have Shown That Chubby People Live Far Longer Than Those That Make Fun Of Them :twisted:
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