The only way to tell this story is… to tell it. Some stories need a lot of background, this one just gets told.
I’m gonna tell it one gulp.
So, I had a ton of fetish videos come into the store. I bought it in a storage room. You don’t get to see what’s in the boxes. I was hoping for old silent films, instead I got people urinating in each others mouth, as well other potty moments…
There were hundreds of all kinds of fetish videos in these huge heavy boxes.
O.K. I lied, I’m gonna tell this story in two gulps…
Fetish stuff cracks me up.
A few years ago, I got a gig as a D.J. in an S&M club for a show. I am D.J. Shecky Wreck and I play a mix of Punk, Soul, and goofball hi-jinks. I get people dancing, I make people laugh. If I see people making out, I’ll try to play a song that will make them have sex in the bar or club, . That always made me feel like a good D.J. if I could get people to fuck in public…
Anyway, I didn’t know that the gig was in a S&M club. I was told the good rate for a short D.J. night and I grabbed it.
So, it was some S&M performance party. There were two girls with tubes wrapped around their bodies. They urinated into these tubes and then sucked up the urine through the tubes. I played the Disco version of “I Love Lucy” for this act.
There were other acts that seemed more fetish than performance.
Like licking boots? Was it performance or just a shoe shine I could live without seeing…Feathers was closest thing to anything I could relate to
Anyway, during my D.J. break. I was looking around at the Performance and trying to break my blue collar roots to understand where the sex comes in, in all this non-sex. To me it was just nonsense if they weren’t getting off.
So, I’m still on my break just walking around and I bump into someone. I turn around to say “I’m sorry.” and I’m saying sorry to a naked man who is floating in a sack bubble of blood substance, five feet off the ground. Just then the bubble jiggles and ruptures and I hear this guy flop to the ground with a thud. I heard the thud over the loud sound system.
Fuckity, fuck, fuck. I had made the embryo sack prematurely give birth. The naked man-baby covered in birth was now crawling towards me. I ran for the D.J. booth where I played the song, “Dizzy” by Tommy Roe. I never left the D.J. booth for the rest of the evening.
The one thing I can say about people with a taste for fetish is, they sure got money to blow. That was the best sound system I ever D.J.’d on. I wonder how my baby-man is doing after all this time?
So, back to the other gulp, the original gulp I was going to tell you about. So I have all these fetish videos and now I know all these fetish people, who love me and my D.J.ing abilities and they all have money and I have five hundred videos that they are going to eat up. Each video is marked at 29.99 or 39.99 and all I want is two bucks a pop.
So, I need to sort all these fetish tapes cause, whatever the persons fetish is, they tend not to want to share each others fetish tastes, they want and know what they want. And whether it is spanking, or foot worship or feather dusting, they only are interested in their respective hobbies.
Just then in walks a Junkman with a truck load of stuff. I buy it. Decent load. I start sorting and I look at these little boxes that are marked “Grandma’s Christmas. I open up these little boxes cause I can use the boxes for the fetish videos. They are small and manageable and fit about thirty videos each and there were twenty boxes. Perfect.
It was July and the Christmas stuff was terrible, so I threw out all the Christmas stuff in garbage bags and started collating all the fetish categories into their sub-genres. I was going to make at least a grand and I was psyched.
In the afternoon, Anthony came in for his shift andI told him that the Christmas stuff was garbage and I left the store for the evening
The next day, I come to the store and the cheap, cheesy Christmas stuff is still in the store and the sorted fetish videos in the Christmas boxes are gone.
“Anthony, where are all the fetish videos I sorted for a couple of hours yesterday?”
“Chris fucked up. He wasn’t supposed to take the balls out of the house.They wanted their grandmothers Christmas stuff back and you said it was garbage, so I gave them the boxes that were all taped up. I figured it would save you some dumping expense.”
“Didn’t it feel kind of heavy to you? Christmas boxes are light?”
“I didn’t think of that. It just seemed that they recognized the boxes. They were marked “Grandma’sChristmas” and you said it was garbage. So, I helped load it in their trunk.”
“That was all fetish bondage shit you gave that family. This Christmas Eve they are going to open up those boxes and think their grandmother was a Dominatrix.”
“Oh my God. Did they know that she was a Dominatrix?”
“She wasn’t a Dominatrix. That was the videos we got that came in the big boxes. I transferred that shit into the little boxes, to make it easier to transport to our freaky friends at the Club where I D.J.’d.”
“Oh shit, O. Henry strikes again… Are we going to be closed on Christmas Eve?”
“You better believe we are this year,” I said… And your bonus this year might just be a Turkey.”
What happened on that Christmas Eve, I’ll never know.