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If
She Doesn’t Scare You, No Evil Thing Will.
by
the Casual Swiss
Wig,
whig, wigg, whigg…the correct spelling eludes me when I want to describe
that Louis “wigged” out (to be irrational) within a few hours after
stealing the car. With the
spelling I chose, I imagine that it would be wigged from “Wigger”.
Which, unflinchingly, is shortened defamatory slang for White Nigger.
Those traditionally branded with the title were the flocks of white
boys that hung out in suburban malls with drooping pants and gangsta’
attitudes. Laughable little
punks fueled by rap videos.
Through
some bend of linguistics, in my town these junior home-boys were called
Guidos. In almost the rest of
America the term guido is reserved for Italians.
But, in my town we just called Italians by their first names.
Perhaps
it is “wiging out” as in to flip one’s wig.
Or it would refer to the now defunct Whig political party.
In any case, Louis wigged out on an eight year old girl (estimated
age).
Crawling
away from the scene of the crime we kept to (Louisiana) back roads and slow
streets. So far, out crimes in
America were restricted to seat belt laws, auto theft, and assault.
I didn’t think of it as gay-bashing.
Since Louis was also gay, it was just regular-bashing.
Slipping down a one-way street, Louis turned off the radio and rolled
to a stop in front of the eight year old girl on a grassy street corner.
It was early morning in July
of
1995.
She
was decked out in Pocahontas gear. Cleaner
than us, she had; Pocahontas shoes. Pocahontas school bag, Pocahontas lunch
box, and a Pocahontas dress with fringes that gave it a Native American
look. “Hey.
Heeeeey guess you like the Pocahontas?”
GIRL:
What?
LOUIS:
I guess you like the Pocahontas.
GIRL:
Yeah.
LOUIS:
Yeah. What are you going
to, school?
SWISS:
It’s July.
LOUIS:
Summer school?
GIRL:
“Big A” Camp.
LOUIS:
Does that involve Jesus?
GIRL:
Some.
SWISS:
Louis, if we’re looking for a Road Movie Third we should pick up a
lawyer or an orangutan.
LOUIS:
Just a second…I haven’t seen Pocahontas, how does it end?
GIRL:
John Smith goes back and Pocahontas, she stays.
LOUIS:
Sad. That’s not how it
really happened.
GIRL:
no response
LOUIS:
No, she goes back to England and marries one of those other English
guys. Yeah, changes her name to
Rebecca and becomes one of the first Tobacco Queens.
Yeah. You like tobacco?
Disney left that part out! You’ve
got the whole works so you really should have the tobacco!
As
if this entire set up wasn’t bad enough, Louis winged a carton of
cigarettes at the little girl as she waited for her Bible Camp Bus alone on
the corner. The full carton of
Kools bounced off her stomach as we pealed out and worked back to a main
road. “What?
Where did the cigarettes come from?”
“They
were under the seat.”
“I
don’t think she’ll smoke them.”
“It
was just a visual aid, making a point.
You know.”
“Hmmph.”
Best to ease into this one. Run
some questions past Louis and see if he’s apt to do this sort of thing
again. “I can get taken in by
some good marketing. Pepsi.”
As a visual aid I lifted the can I bought back at a gas station.
“I
guess Mountain Dew commercials got me,” he said in a normal tone and
showing his own can. “Now
they show Mountain Dew drinkers as Extreme Sports types.
Running around, jumping over and off of shit.”
“Do
the Dew.”
“Do
the Dew. I like the Extreme Sports people.
They’re good people, lots of energy.
Travel around in jeeps listening to Beastie Boys with bandanas on
their dogs.”
“Yeah.”
I bet last summer that girl was head to toe with the Lion King.”
“Probably.”
Louis spat out with renewed venom. Uh-oh.
“What,
did the Lion King go into bootlegging or something?
Louis turned the radio
on then back off.
“Have
you ever been to Disney World?”
“Twice.”
“I
went there with a girl friend and her family.
They were a big Disney Family and had a time-share thing in one of
the Disney resorts. So, I went
down there with them—and this was during the summer so it rained every
afternoon. You know those
ponchos they sell?”
“The
yellow ones with Mickey on the back.”
“Yeah,
you go out when it’s sunny and when it starts to rain they get you for
these hooded sheets of plastic that everyone’s walking around in.
So, me and Tess got caught in a downpour coming out of Captain Eo,
bought ‘em, and went over to Magic Kingdom.”
“They
don’t show Captain Eo anymore.”
“I
heard. So, we do Peter Pan and
Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. She
goes off to the bathroom and I got us a place in line for the Snow White
ride. Then, Tess comes back and
hands me her shorts.”
“Her
shorts?”
“The
shorts she was wearing. Rolled
up with the underwear in the pocket.”
“So…”
“So
all she’s wearing now is her T-shirt, sandals, and the Mickey Mouse
poncho.” Most other guys
telling a story with this kind of twist would be grinning, nodding and
slapping the steering wheel. Louis’
tone was more serious. How
could a theme park nymph story go wrong?
“Wow.”
“Tess
whispered to me that while on the ride she wanted to climax just as we
passed the part at the end where the animatronic Price Charming kissed Snow
White awake.”
“Em…”
“Finger-fucking…while
sitting next to her. Just. Go
in under the poncho and nobody suspects.
It was a tall order but I figured I’d get it done.
We got in the two person mining cart that takes you around and I
started in once we got inside. She…shit,
I was concentrating on the task at hand and she starts singing Someday My
Prince Will Come.”
I
laughed at that part.
“Then,
she sang kind of a medley of Disney songs; Jungle Book, Pinocchio,
Cinderella, Dalmatians. Then,
we’re about half way through and she starts mumbling about the
characters.”
“What
characters?”
“First,
she named names, most of the dwarfs and the traditional characters.
Pooh. She was working
out a total fantasy thing. I
was doing my job ok and as we came up on the “waking kiss’ part she says
something about Goofy then yells, ‘In a glass coffin!’ and bucks
straight up. Nearly lost my
hand.
Within
a few seconds we were outside again and just got off quietly.
We didn’t get caught but I have a theory about that.”
“This
story has a theory?” it was too much.
“This
story has observations, theories, and a moral.”
“Always
wish upon a star?” I
couldn’t help it.
“I
started thinking about Tess’ bed. I
never understood how she could sleep in it.
The whole pillow area was covered with stuffed animals.
Disney animals who had occupied her bed for years and all the time.
It put a new perspective on out whole sexual history.
Like, was I just there to enhance the Plush Character Experience?
Then,
how many of the girls that I had dated had decades of Disney characters
peppered through their bedroom? All of ‘em. How many females in general?
All of ‘em. Even my
sister!” That was the only
time Louis ever mentioned anything about his family.
I
gave immediate thought to those who I have known and ye cripes Louis mad a
frightening amount of sense. It
wasn’t enough to send me into another sexual orientation or lead me to
harassing eight-year-olds. But,
it throws suspicion on the motives of American females everywhere and has
perverted yet another slice of culture.
“Don’t
trust anyone over thirty and keep an eye on anyone under twelve.”
That
I (the Casual Swiss) did eventually get home and part ways with Louis is no
big secret. I am writing this
in separate comfort from the road. I
usually throw three disks into the CD player, press random, and pound out
portions of 1995 roughly three pages at a time.
But, I feel nothing like the introspective beatnik as he unravels
himself and America onto the page, with a soft sadness for past companions
of the road.
The
low storm that is Louis is probably still out there loitering, vandalizing,
and looking for love. I, on the
other hand, currently reside right outside of Orlando.
This city was built by Disney and is a Mecca for the plush doll
crowd. It’s soil and souvenir
stores are like kryptonite to Louis and I feel safe from his band of
craziness.
Still,
although a city built on entertainment, packaging, merchandising, and
talking animals may ward off the vibes of a genuine mad man…anyone exposed
to Louis’ deeper thoughts will loose a little sleep over those sane people
who come here in droves.
Copyright©2000 The Casual Swiss