I blame the porn. It's really a shame when a good girl goes bad...
So there I was, shopping away in a well known department store... shoes, sweaters and funky skirts alike dazzling me with every turn.
I saw a mannequin. And she was naked. And. She had nipples.
And without even thinking about it, as I walked by her, my hand went up and touched one.
And. People saw me. (!)
First of all-when did mannequins acquire nipples? I mean, they don't even have heads for goodness sake, and most of the time...sans appendages. Clearly, these are man made-and by this I do not mean human made-I mean testosterone dripping, nipple making, man made.
Nipples on a mannequin. Craziness.
And to my defense-I touch EVERYTHING. I love texture.
I once made a buzzer go off in the metropolitan museum of Art in NYC because my hand got too close to an exhibit.
Every time I leave the movie theater my hand drags across the corduroy-like walls.
And buttons of every kind are no match for these fingers.
So seeing the eraser sized bumps on a headless stump was pretty inviting. The plastic was smooth and clean, and-who wouldn't want to touch it?
(I'm pretty much the only one, huh? Oh man, that's what I thought.)
When I realized what I did, I almost peed myself laughing. My whole body was shaking with laughter and my eyes were tearing. I went into the dressing room (b/c it was the closest exit away from the couple who saw me do it) and cracked up. I sounded kind of like Donald Duck because I was trying to hold it in. Luckily, I was finally able to gain composure and even managed to buy a pair of pants.
...I totally blame the porn. Looks like this good girl's ready to get down with the gangsta's.