Monday, April 29, 2002

Crotch Watch

Fiesta is now over.

For those not familiar, San Antonio essentially shuts down and parties (hard) for nine days in April.

Despite four years here for high school, I'd never experienced the wonder that is a night of Fiesta.

So last Friday, I sallied forth.

I had fun. But then again, one of my top ten most wonderful evenings happened in Enid, Oklahoma -- so I guess I can have fun anywhere.

But back to Fiesta San Antonio....

Bands and lots of them. Probably over thirty playing in the streets. Good tunes. Lots of dancers.

Cheap beer at a buck and a half for twenty ounces. A sixteen ounce soda was priced higher.

Block after block downtown closed to traffic and full of savory food booths, vendors of everything from folk art to velvet paintings, carnival rides brightly glowing and whirling, and throngs of partiers.

As I watched these happy people, the odor of bacon intruded oppressively.

To say the SAPD presence was overwhelming would be an understatement.

The boys in blue were posted in pairs every quarter block.

Watching the cops watch the crowd, I started to notice unifying behaviors.

When a young woman went by, she got at least a thrice over head to foot with the tell tail linger on the tits and ass. No surprise there.

What was funny and much unexpected, was how much time the little piggies spent playing with their junk.

I realize men have what at times seems to me an almost compulsive need to scratch, shift, adjust and fondle their penis in public -- but these cops took the cake.

When I was in the Navy, a day did not go by that a man I was talking to professionally would mess with his package in front of me. As a midshipman at the academy, it never failed to amaze me how often guys would just start nonchalantly stroking themselves in the middle of a conversation.

I'd usually say something -- like if your dick itches, why don't you excuse yourself and go somewhere private to scratch it?

And you can't tell me a man's genitals are any more easily irritated than a woman's. Women have the moisture factor to contend with -- but I can't tell you the last time I saw one publicly give her crotch a good dig.

But these officers -- it was almost like a bad movie. They couldn't keep their hands off themselves.

The worst offender was this bicycle cop I spotted while relocating from La Villita to the River Walk. He and his partner were sitting in traffic and this guy was not casually scratching -- no -- it was like he was after a flea. Dig, dig, dig -- root, root, root. Very violent hand action. A wonder he didn't damage himself.

Even after observing an evening's efforts from rest of the city's finest, this one bike cop's performance left me amusingly shocked and appalled. I couldn't help it, I had to point and laugh. Bike boy didn't even notice as he continued his violent self-assault.

Ah well. Maybe there is a strange form of VD sweeping the force.

It was amusing to watch their antics...

But based on this behavior -- at least two thirds of the patrolmen I saw were junk handlers -- young ladies should beware.

Moratorium time on indigenous pig hunting, dating and mating.

After all -- it could be contagious.

posted by Bohica at 3:30 PM