one

FYI: I am a creep.

And now for something a little different...

Ever picture tells a story, Installment 1.

Background: I was excavating my room after moving back home and came across my old toy chest, which was full of pictures. Pictures I had taken dating back as far as 1996. Anyone who knows me knows I prefer to have a camera as an appendage so I don't have to rely on my lacking and disjunct story telling skills to give a clear and accurate idea of what I found to funny. I have pictures of everything, including, but not limited to, the sunbeam bread truck that almost hit me on the highway, the solidified cheeseburger left in the fake flowers at a McDonald's, the yellow loush that was somehow going uphill...

I have a problem. And I'm breaking myself in easy.

March 2005


The picture has Tara and me in it. We are in line at Space Mountain (my least favorite ride) at the Magic Kingdom. It was the first night of our Disney vacation. But that isn't the important part.

Please notice the man in yellow. He is the reason this picture exists. Well, him and his son who cannot be seen from this angle. I don't know what kind of foreign he was, but in his country, they hadn't heard of personal space. Tara and I spent an hour in line ahead of this man. He walked into us. He accidentally held our hand on the guide rail. We felt the residual mist from his small child's spray fan. It was copable.

The camel that broke our backs occurred only 3 rows back in the queue for the ride. Less than 15 minutes from safety. We had been switching off standing in front of the heinous man. Tara was in the back part of the line. We were kind of joking around when the man in yellow coughed. On Tara's Shoulder. She was rightfully grossed out, which made it my shift and the female companion (pictured) tried to reign in her husband by putting him behind her.

I took the back stance. Thinking I was safe because the man had moved, I relaxed ever so slightly. According to Tara, I stopped midsentence, made a horrified face and she saw it drop. The small child, up until that point the lesser of the evils, had intentionally or not tried to forcibly insert his misting fan into my bum through jeans and a bathing suit, lost his grip on it and the thing fell directly between my legs. It was Tara's shift again.

There were a few little things after that and somewhere around the 2nd line in queue, I figured it out. When we moved forward, instead of just facing forward, I turned and directly faced the man in yellow. He stopped about 5 inches from my face and I said, "HI." He backed up and his female companion started giggling. He stayed back for the remaining 5 minutes.

ATTN: If you are that man, Back the fuck up!