smiling pussy

A week or so ago, it was D's birthday.  She rang me late in the afternoon, wondering if I would like to come round for birthday drinks that evening, as her bf had just baked a chocolate cake that she was keen to share and devour.  I agreed, of course, even though I was feeling rather viral.  Once off the phone, I realised I didn't have a gift, a card or anything to give her (other than a boring old bottle of wine), and as I was feeling viral, and didn't want to go up the street and look for something (and Woolies or Coles would probably have been my only options).  So I looked round the house for something close to hand, a found object that would suffice.  My eyes finally alighted on my slowly burgeoning NT stubbie collection...perhaps I could fill one with Easter eggs (yes, only two and half months of mini-Easter egg eating to go) and give it to her.  But which one would please?  Not the boring old crocodile one that everyone has...or the Headlines hairdressing salon one...or the NHMRC alcohol guidelines one (from work)...the only real candidate was surely the Smiling Pussy  stubbie holder...if I could bear to part with it.

I found the purple Smiling Pussy stubbie in the yard at work one morning this year.  I presume it came from the motel next door, but anything's possible.  (On seeing the litter of used condoms in our yard one Monday morning, one of my colleagues trumpeted -- 'It seems we are working in a popular love nest.'  You have to imagine this being said loudly and with an Indian accent.)  I immediately felt myself to be in the presence of the Abject -- repulsed yet attracted (or is it the other way round).  For a while, it sat on top of my filing cabinet with the NHMRC guidelines stubbie holder, then I decided that the Smiling Pussy was maybe better off at home. 

Anyway, back to D: would her feminist principles be offended by eggs in the Smiling Pussy?  Or would she think it was greatly humorous?  I decided that on balance, the latter was more likely, tho her keenly held feminist principles might make her uncomfortable with long-time ownership of the Smiling Pussy stubbie holder, so I might be able to reclaim it after she'd devoured the Easter eggs. 

So I wrapped up the Smiling Pussy in Christmas paper and took it round to D's and...bad news: she was ecstatic with her gift.

'Oh, it's the great hand over of Smiling Pussy stubbie holder!  I've told EVERYONE about your SMILING PUSSY STUBBIE HOLDER!'

So I had to relinquish the Smiling Pussy.  I couldn't even suggest temporary ownership. (It wasn't as bad as giving up the puppy of course, but bad enough.)

I pondered the matter of the Smiling Pussy Stubbie Holder sadly for several days, before coming up with a plan.  I would ring the Smiling Pussy escort service, introduce myself as an admirer of their stubbie holder, and ask if I could purchase one.

When I rang the Smiling Pussy, I spoke to 'Mini' who was most enthusiastic about my interest in their stubbie holder.  They'd been very popular; they were a great marketing hit. She was more than happy to bring her stubbie condoms around and happy to give me one for free, for merchandising purposes, after she'd 'dropped one of the girls off'.

So Mini came round.  She turned out to be a small, wiry woman with cicada shell skin, wearing cut-off jeans and a lace up camouflage-patterned vest. She came into my living room carrying a green Woolies recycling bag full of multi-coloured stubbie coolers bearing the smiling pussy logo.

'I call them stubbie condoms,' she said. 'I tell the guys they'll keep their mouths wet and their hands dry.'

She tipped them out on the floor: there were seven colours -- red, fluorescent green, day-glo pink, orange, maroon, blue and purple. I was thinking of getting another purple one, to replace my stubbie condom original, but she told me that 'purple is the colour of frustration, like red is the colour of passion; if ever you reach for something purple, you know you're feeling frustrated'.

How interesting. I thought purple was meant to be the 'spiritual' colour. It's also a suffragette colour.

So I went for orange (my favourite colour from childhood) with great haste.

Mini said they'd turned out to be very popular; she didn't know of another escort service that sold them. People from up north in Darwin had seen them and were putting in orders. 'And the ladies like them too, which makes the guys not feel so bad about contacting an escort service.'

I wish I could remember more of what she said; she was marvellous. But she spoke very quickly.

I have plans for a major Territorian stubbie holder collection.  The place I really regret not thinking to ask for a stubbie holder is Wycliffe Well:

I'm told they have one; I'm sure there'll be other opportunities.  I now expect this website to be inundated with porn spam.

Tomorrow evening, I'm heading off to Darwin for orientation for my new job...oh hurrah, she said in the manner of the Famous Five.  And new people, and new opportunities to dine out, she also said, in the manner of one tired of the isolation of Alice, especially during the Big Heat.  And seafood (not a great desert speciality).

And...I've extended my ticket so that I'll stay there over the weekend and go down to Kakadu.  This is crazy, yes, as while it's not the 'build-up' season (Darwin must be the only city to suffer from PMS), it's still February and incredibly hot (not as much as here) and sticky (much more so).  But I rang one of the lodges in Kakadu National Park and they said it was looking beautiful after all the rain (great news to a desert-dweller) and that I could go on some special floodwater tour that most people don't get to see (because they don't usually visit during the flood season, I guess).  And I'll be flying back to Alice early on Monday am (my first day on work) on the red-eye special, which is also crazy (especially since I've been to Darwin several times before in more propitious seasons when I could have weekended it to Kakadu, but didn't).  But suddenly, with a new job and a new lease of life, it all seems to good to miss.

Comments

[Pavlov's Cat]

Great present. Great story.

There you go, there's an introductory, ice-breaking Creative Writing class exercise for you -- 'Write a page about the best present you ever gave anyone.'

[Jude]

I take it that with your new lease on life, very soon we will see the end of this blog's purple background.

[elsewhere]

Yes, I did wonder about that last night, Jude! But it is a desert colour, and that was the effect I was aiming for (mauve was my second favourite colour as a child).