(no subject)
I had Saturday night all to myself and I was having trouble figuring out what to do with all of that "me time". Until I checked my financial status online and found I was 50 big ones in the red. The address change had messed up my checks and the deposit had wiped out my savings, so all I had left was the 57 dollar check from the state of Wisconsin tax return. I knew I had to do something quickly, but as long as I was throwing money down a hole anyway I thought I might as well make it as pleasant as possible.
I grabbed the dogs and we headed down to the river to take advantage of the new footbridge at the Kane place park. The dogs and I bounded downward, appreciating how the setting sun glinted on the river's rushing waters. When I noticed a young girl up ahead of me I got the dogs on their leashes so they wouldn't frighten her with their rough affections. I stepped onto the bridge only a few moments after her, she was already halfway across and from my vantage point she seemed to be simply enjoying the view. Then I looked up ahead to the steep, winding steps that climb the hill up out of the river valley, and I saw something strange. At first I didn't understand what I was seeing. A man sat on the railing by the river, looking up at a odd tableau on the wide staircase. At first I thought, "a man going to the bathroom or mooning the man down below?" until an uneven rhythm to his movement became clear and two feet, with pants and underwear still wrapped around them appeared over his shoulder. Just then I am approaching the girl in the center of the bridge and she says what is only just forming in my mind.
"There are people having sex on the stairs."
The only way out of the park is either back toward my house or up those stairs.
Crap.
The girl is in a nervous panic and calls the police and for a moment I stand there thinking, "The police will come and shoo them away and I won't have to walk by these two stairway exhibitionists and their admiring audience of one."
Then I remembered that I was in Milwaukee and it was a non-emergency call.
So lamely I called out at the top of my lungs, "We're calling the police!"
To my surprise, it worked, they stopped mid thrust, pulled their clothes back into place and...sat down on the steps.
Dammit. The only thing to do was to charge the steps with the tiny girl in tow and hope that they weren't mad that I had interrupted their romantic interlude.
When we reached them, they were sitting next to a spilled beer, with several other cans strewn about nearby, the woman's face was such a drooping mass of aging flesh that a shudder of disgust ran down my spine and the man looked mildly retarded.
They were making jokes about bail money when we walked by, I tried to think of something scathing to say, but nothing appropriately shaming came to mind. So Kiki (the little girl) the dogs and I sailed past in silent wounded dignity. Even the dogs held their heads high, as though to say to the repellent pair that their asses weren't good enough to sniff.
I grabbed the dogs and we headed down to the river to take advantage of the new footbridge at the Kane place park. The dogs and I bounded downward, appreciating how the setting sun glinted on the river's rushing waters. When I noticed a young girl up ahead of me I got the dogs on their leashes so they wouldn't frighten her with their rough affections. I stepped onto the bridge only a few moments after her, she was already halfway across and from my vantage point she seemed to be simply enjoying the view. Then I looked up ahead to the steep, winding steps that climb the hill up out of the river valley, and I saw something strange. At first I didn't understand what I was seeing. A man sat on the railing by the river, looking up at a odd tableau on the wide staircase. At first I thought, "a man going to the bathroom or mooning the man down below?" until an uneven rhythm to his movement became clear and two feet, with pants and underwear still wrapped around them appeared over his shoulder. Just then I am approaching the girl in the center of the bridge and she says what is only just forming in my mind.
"There are people having sex on the stairs."
The only way out of the park is either back toward my house or up those stairs.
Crap.
The girl is in a nervous panic and calls the police and for a moment I stand there thinking, "The police will come and shoo them away and I won't have to walk by these two stairway exhibitionists and their admiring audience of one."
Then I remembered that I was in Milwaukee and it was a non-emergency call.
So lamely I called out at the top of my lungs, "We're calling the police!"
To my surprise, it worked, they stopped mid thrust, pulled their clothes back into place and...sat down on the steps.
Dammit. The only thing to do was to charge the steps with the tiny girl in tow and hope that they weren't mad that I had interrupted their romantic interlude.
When we reached them, they were sitting next to a spilled beer, with several other cans strewn about nearby, the woman's face was such a drooping mass of aging flesh that a shudder of disgust ran down my spine and the man looked mildly retarded.
They were making jokes about bail money when we walked by, I tried to think of something scathing to say, but nothing appropriately shaming came to mind. So Kiki (the little girl) the dogs and I sailed past in silent wounded dignity. Even the dogs held their heads high, as though to say to the repellent pair that their asses weren't good enough to sniff.