Pervert Bench

11 08 2008

I think I need to add an edit to my post about cruising the streets with the totally insane dog who’s come into our otherwise peaceful lives. I realize the word cruising has an air of the sexual about it, but far be it for me to just walk the streets for the purpose of encounters of that kind. Of course  I enjoy sitting in the Magic Flirt Chair in cafes and exchanging a few sly smiles on the side, but otherwise my cruising is purely for the platonic encounters, the free chocolate croissants and the like. 

 

However……… I must, must write about the ‘Pervert Bench’ Jackson and I found in the park last week. Imagine a largish park, all green and leafy where young couples court, dogs run, profi-sport sportsmen and women sunbathe in their lycra two pieces, and then imagine small inlets of park around the outside. Within these sit some benches, small tables for ‘picnicing’. And yet, innocent as they are, from the outside looking in, when you actually sit in one you realize you are in Pervert Heaven. The way these little inlets are designed is that no one can see you sitting there, and your view is directed out, narrowed by the encircling bushes to a tunnel vision view of the park. 

 

Oh how crass! You’d think this is just for picnicing, right? That I’m to blame for suggesting the innuendo of what otherwise is complete innocence? Well I would have thought the same, sitting there with my two-legged and four-legged friends, complete with coconut ice-cream – until we spotted the leather belt on the floor. Again, could have been accidentally discarded, or even thrown off in a moment of consensual passionate rumpage in the middle of the night, but this belt was fastened up!! So my questions are firstly, who takes off their belt in a park and secondly, who not only takes off their belt in the park but fastens it up again? My only conclusion is a bit of hanky panky, belt-thrashing has gone in there and someone has left with a very sore backside. 

 

I’m going to add some links to this site, as it’s very bare and I look a bit of a loner. So I’ve divided  my two links into ‘those I know’ and ‘those I don’t know’. Connecting to someone via the internet might follow some sort of etiquette which I don’t know so I’ve risked one link to a page which I read a lot, and reminds how funny the internet can be, and the other link to a very good, old friend of mine who has recently taken me under his feathered wing as one of his many foster children. 

 

After noting the 1990s fashion of the first 24 series, my eyes have not stopped taking in all the other 90s’ fashion crimes of Berlin – totally heinous. It’s not just the mullets, it’s the backwards baseball caps, the massively baggy shorts with socks pulled up underneath, I have spotted at least two George Michael look-a-likes, one priceless vision of cotton camouflage trousers with a tie-dyed t-shirt completed with a dinosaur pattern, Thai fishermen trousers no doubt picked up on the Khao San road 10 years after The Beach hit the big screens, an Oasis t-shirt accompanied with Kangol hat and a classy t-shirt that read ‘Silicone Free’. Let me not forget to mention hearing the Austin Powers theme tune being played from someone’s window AND a free perfume sample I was given called Mojo Sexy or Mojo Power.  Mojo??? Seriously??

So in homage to the 90s, I found my old Rouge Noir nail varnish at the back of the drawer so I can pretend I’m Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction. It was a choice between late-90s style or mid-90s style which would have involved a flowing skirt, DM boots, Smashing Pumpkins and some incense sticks.

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