Blame it on the Clothes
I have been very busy working with my performance replacement. The Residents, without me, are off to Poland next week so I had a lot of preparations to get Eric ready.
Roman had made one of his infamous dental trips to the city to spend a few days getting a dose of culture so I was on my own. I tried to stay out of trouble.
I had strolled to the main road to pick up mail when I noticed Mark, our drug-burned-out acquaintance, down the road a few hundred feet. He was shouting and stomping around angrily. Unusual behavior. Also he appeared to be surprisingly dirty. He made me nervous as he was becoming aggressive at an invisible entity. I was slapped with the truth that he really was mentally ill. I chose to slip away without catching his eye.
After making a couple of calls, I learned that Mark had been hanging around some of the vacation rental houses down at the river. The renters didn’t know Mark, of course, they only see a crazy guy. Apparently one renter had a teenage daughter and Mark seemed to, maybe, be attracted to her, and, maybe, fondled himself. Maybe.
Anyway, they called the Sheriff who took Mark away. The Sheriff didn’t have any choice since it was a legitimate complaint, but he knew Mark and drove him home rather than to jail. Mark can’t be more than 23 so he is bound to get wood around girls, and any guy knows that can be uncomfortable if it springs in a wrong position. Guys occasionally had to do the crotch grab and the hip grind. Blame it on clothes.
There will always be renters, there will always be young girls. There will always be erections. Mark will always scare people. That made me sad. I figured he was jerking it like any guy but sexual pressures could be difficult for a mentally challenged person.
We all give Mark far more latitude than we do other people because children don’t know better and Mark’s mind is that of an eternal child. But Mark’s body will age and a forty year old man adjusting an erection in his pants is going to be a tough sell.
When his parents can no longer care for him, I suppose he will be taken to a facility.
Old people also turn back into children. I’ll probably have to be taken to a facility too.
The Residents will continue without me, Roman will still go to San Francisco for dental appointments. Mark and I will sit in the sun at our facilities adjusting our erections.
Roman had made one of his infamous dental trips to the city to spend a few days getting a dose of culture so I was on my own. I tried to stay out of trouble.
I had strolled to the main road to pick up mail when I noticed Mark, our drug-burned-out acquaintance, down the road a few hundred feet. He was shouting and stomping around angrily. Unusual behavior. Also he appeared to be surprisingly dirty. He made me nervous as he was becoming aggressive at an invisible entity. I was slapped with the truth that he really was mentally ill. I chose to slip away without catching his eye.
After making a couple of calls, I learned that Mark had been hanging around some of the vacation rental houses down at the river. The renters didn’t know Mark, of course, they only see a crazy guy. Apparently one renter had a teenage daughter and Mark seemed to, maybe, be attracted to her, and, maybe, fondled himself. Maybe.
Anyway, they called the Sheriff who took Mark away. The Sheriff didn’t have any choice since it was a legitimate complaint, but he knew Mark and drove him home rather than to jail. Mark can’t be more than 23 so he is bound to get wood around girls, and any guy knows that can be uncomfortable if it springs in a wrong position. Guys occasionally had to do the crotch grab and the hip grind. Blame it on clothes.
There will always be renters, there will always be young girls. There will always be erections. Mark will always scare people. That made me sad. I figured he was jerking it like any guy but sexual pressures could be difficult for a mentally challenged person.
We all give Mark far more latitude than we do other people because children don’t know better and Mark’s mind is that of an eternal child. But Mark’s body will age and a forty year old man adjusting an erection in his pants is going to be a tough sell.
When his parents can no longer care for him, I suppose he will be taken to a facility.
Old people also turn back into children. I’ll probably have to be taken to a facility too.
The Residents will continue without me, Roman will still go to San Francisco for dental appointments. Mark and I will sit in the sun at our facilities adjusting our erections.