Ripcord Wide Shut

[A gaggle of terribly fabulous preppies breeze in and cast their eyes about the store.]

Preppy 1: “Let’s buy something fun!”

Preppy 2: “Yes! Let’s.” [to me] “Do you have any masques?”

Me: “Sorry, but we don’t carry… masks, other than the pup hoods.”

Preppy 2: “Really? No masques?”

Me: “None at all, I’m afraid.”

Preppy 2: “No glow-in-the-dark masques we could wear?”

Me: “No glow-in-the-dark anything.”

I was kind of hoping he’d keep upping the ante (“Really? No glow-in-the-dark, sequined and feathered masques that bring ancient, undying curses down upon those who dare possess them? Not even a floor model?”), but instead he just wandered away. Although later, a straight couple came in, and the guy immediately went, “Oh. This is one of those bars,” and they turned around and left. I don’t know if he meant a gay bar, or a leather bar, or a gay leather bar or what, but in my mind, he was like, “Damnit. I was specifically told that all the queers would be wearing masques.”

Sorry to disappoint, my good breeder. But here we only hide our identities behind clever nicknames.

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