Rattled

Okay. So here's the scene. Time for me to leave Starbucks. Gotta get home early to take my dad to do his taxes.

On the porch, I run into Actor Guy. ('Member him? He's beautiful. Blond, strong chin, piercing blue eyes, built like a prizefighter? Takes acting classes in NYC and hopes to be the next Brad Pitt?) We greet each other warmly. And he's like, "Yo! It's the whip cracker!"

I had told him about how I might be asked by some theater group at Princeton U. to teach them how to crack a whip for a production of Waiting For Godot they're doing. We talked about whip throwing and the theater, the whole thing about Harrison Ford having a scar on his chin from when he was learning for Indiana Jones, how Michelle Pfeiffer turned out to be a natural and still keeps up with it from her Catwoman role.

Actor Guy's buddy was like, "Wha...?" So Actor Guy explained about me and whips. And then Actor Guy was like, "So you cracking much lately?" I told him that I got a new whip (seven foot bullwhip, not including the fall and the handle) a couple of months ago that I'm breaking in.

"Whoa!" declares Actor Guy, "I'd love to see that."

"Well," I answered, I've got it in my jeep. I'll show it to you."

(Oh. Right. That's why I've been carrying my new bullwhip around in my jeep with me.)

I quickly fetched it. Actor Guy was awed. "And you can crack this?" he asked with child-like wonder?"

Like I needed even that much of an invitation.

I did a graceful and leisurely overhand throw, right there in the parking lot of Starbucks. And got out of it the best crack to date.

Actor Guy was orgasmic. On the porch, I just saw open mouths. All eyes were on me. Two cops who were hanging on the porch among the onlookers. "Yo! Indiana! Where's your Temple of Doom?" I heard. One of the cops (the younger one with the apple cheeks) said, "Man, don't come within twenty feet of me with that thing!"

"Don't turn your back on me when I'm talking to you," I said with a grin.

Then my attention focused on Actor Guy. His eyes were bright. His face was a mask of adoration.

"Oh man! That's incredible! Damn! You can cut skin with that, right?"

"I can cut a beer can with that," I corrected.

"I saw once where Johnny Knoxville got whipped bareback. Damn! What would that be like?"

I was speechless. Was Actor Guy asking me to...?

The image came up so clearly in my mind's eye: Actor Guy, stripped naked. His beautiful, muscular body stretched out, roped between two trees. I throw the whip almost casually, and Actor Guy bellows, with agony and ecstasy. Again and again, my whip rains down on his bleeding back. I am intent. I want to break him. Want him to be reduced to a weeping little boy. Then hold him, soaking my shirt with his blood as I do. "I've got you buddy. I've got you. I'm right here. Just let it out, buddy. Let it all come."

Like there was someone chasing me, without a word of goodbye even, I coiled my whip, jumped in my jeep, backed out, and sped off. Totally rattled.

All the way home, I couldn't get the idea of whipping Actor Guy out of my head.

Still can't.

I'm hoping, really hoping, that the leathergods give ma an amazing man to whip sometime soon. I'll wait. I'll be patient. But oh man, I'm looking forward to it.

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