Sometimes it happens...

I'm not without my deviant side, a touch of practical perversion as it were.  I keep it in check, world of real life, it isn't seen often and never with folks who don't know me well enough to know it's a very minor percentage of my personality.  Most of the time.  But last night a little slipped out by accident.  No damage done, just a laugh that had someone confused, wondering if their feelings should be hurt.

Two things to set the stage for my story here: the frat rat party houses at either end of my  street, and an old country song, theme to the long gone TV show "Rawhide" actually.  Go ahead and start the song, the rest of this will make more sense if it's playing in the background.

Anyhow, last night there were parties underway on both ends, and I very nearly ran over a twenty head gaggle of sisters migrating one party to the other while pulling into my driveway.  Scared me into being slightly annoyed, I didn't want them for a bumper sticker or tire tattoo, does horrible things for your insurance rates. When parked I got out of the car and shook my head only to notice another twenty head gaggle going the other way!  I couldn't help it, it called to mind a most totally politically incorrect visual set as a video for the chorus of the old song:  a stormy night, the cowboys (they were from Oklahoma State University, the  Cowboys, of course) working to keep the herd moving, keep it a herd and not a stampede, horse and man moving like one critter in the darkness... lean, mean eyed men riding hard and swinging the long handled rubber paddles favored by the fetish/bdsm folk like polo mallets to keep the herd of nekid college girls in one group and headed in the same direction.  It just sort of wrote itself over reality, the wind was blowing and the sky cloudy dark, and the herd of girls were, you know, already there. 

I couldn't help it, I laughed.  One of the sisters heard the laugh, looked at me wondering, and never in my life did I wish so much to be a full projecting telepath so I could just push the reason for my laugh into all forty head of them intact en toto and walk away smiling.  But... no.  I'm not.  Probably just as well, they were apparently having a good time.  Somehow I don't think they were quite drunk enough to see any humor.  Not quite drunk enough, but close.

In postscript, 36 hours later:  Nah, that song should belong to the faculty and staff of Oklahoma State University... they suffer with them hour to hour, day to day, way more than those of us who provide the herd cover to play at being adults.  They, far more than we, have reason to want to smack some bottoms with a rubber paddle on a rainy night...