Gagging from the scent of severe BO, I jerked back so violently my Best Cola splashed all over this hairy guy who looked like a woolly mammoth.
“Excuse me!” I said. “I am so sorry. I didn’t see you.”
Instead of speaking, he simply shrugged, then looked down at the cola seeping through his chest fur.
Utterly fascinated by the sight of him, I just stood there, taking him in. First off, he wore this towering pink top hat at an angle on his head. A little odd, but it was Woodstock—what did I expect?
It’s what I didn’t expect that caused my eyes to bulge out of their sockets. Woolly Dude wasn’t wearing any pants! And without realizing it, I was staring at the burly upside-down toadstool between his legs, just dangling there—in front of God and everybody. I almost passed out.
Feeling a flush sweep across my face, I squeezed my cheeks. “Oh! Wow!” I accidentally blurted out before making matters worse.Wayworse. Instead of looking away like a normal person, Ikept staring! I gave that thing a full-on gawk, with my mouth hanging wide open.
Then for some reason—God only knows why—I extended my hand to make sure it was okay. It was an instinct I had. I did this sort of thing without thinking about it. The day before, I had done it to Leon’s knee after banging it with the car door.
My fingers were mere inches from it when I realized what I was doing. I snatched my hand back as if it was an anaconda, gasped like I was terrified, and pressed a palm to my mouth. Naked Woolly Dude and I just stood there staring at one another for the longest five seconds of my life.
You’d have thought he’d have been embarrassed too. Not a chance. He held up those two Woodstock fingers and said “Peace, baby” in a jovial voice.
Right after that—I swear on a stack of Bibles this happened—while giving me the peace sign with one hand, he reached between his legs with the other. He picked up that toadstool and waved it at me, as ifitwas telling me goodbye.
In a daze, I stumbled away from the concessions area with a hand pressed against my stomach, praying Leon hadn’t noticed. But when I whirled around to make sure, there he stood, only a few yards away, with a Cheshire cat grin on his face.
As soon as our eyes met, he burst into wild laughter. He crumpled over, holding on to his Best Cola with one hand and his cold dog with the other. I just stood there—glaring at him—as he shook his head from side to side. With no regard for my feelings whatsoever, he gazed up at the sky, all the while cackling like a farm hen. His face flushed as he gasped for air. Tears rolled down his cheeks. The only thing redder than his face was mine.
“Are you kidding me?” I bellowed. “I can’t believe you’re laughing. I’m traumatized.”
Leon howled so hard he snorted, placing his hand that held the hot dog on my shoulder for support. He could hardly spit out his words. “As long ... as I live ... I’ll never ... witnessanythingthat good.”
By then we had attracted a crowd. People had stopped to watch, looking at the two of us as if we were a sideshow. A few even chuckled along with Leon, having no idea why.
“Hey, man, what’s so funny?” one dude asked.
I glared at Leon, as if to sayDon’t you even think about it, so he raised a hand, flapping away the dude’s question. “Nothing. Just a private ...joke,” he managed to spit out before dissolving once again into hysterics, like a deranged hyena.
“Looks like a good one,” the dude answered before strolling off. Fortunately, the rest of the onlookers left when he did.
I stared Leon down with one of my signature scowls, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “Are you satisfied?”
He shook his head.
“I’m delighted I could be your entertainment today. Maybe I should charge you admission.”
He leaned his head back, moving it from side to side. “If you could have seen that cat’s face when he saw you staring at his johnson. Holy shit, Miss Peeping Tom!”
I leaned in toward him with hands dug into my hips. “I did not mean to stare! I was taken by surprise. Nobody told me Sasquatch was at Woodstock.Naked.”
After making another embarrassing pig snort, Leon grew oddly still. “Oh God, that’s good. Say it again.”
“Say what? Sasquatch?”
“No.Nekkid.I love your Southern drawl.”
“No way.” He’d have to beg me for it.
“Please,” he said, with a crooked smile. “For me.”
“No. You don’t deserve it.”
“Pretty please.” He cocked his head, pouted his bottom lip.
