Stupid Dolly

That is the kind of stupid that will turn my head. Hot! Stupid! Straight Up Wrong! Let me jump on it. It reminds me of a morning at work. This particular job had a jumble of offices that stretched from a very busy thoroughfare in front to a dilapidated parking lot in back. Most of the place was dark, dank and hazardous to your long-term health.

The three oases from this filthy haze were the lobby, the front office, and my office. The door from the lobby would swing on a regular basis letting in fresh air to fight off the strong stank emanating from the nether pits. My office was only occupied by me. And, I clean up after my self. The other office piggies feared me and stayed the eff out.

The third oasis was the front office. This jobsite had day staff and night staff. The night grubsters generated the unholy filth that ruled the walls, floor and (Miles Davis help us) the air. The front office was for the day staff and their business. The grubsters sometimes trespassed but the sullying was limited to empty food containers. Because I had to use the office, too, the front office received regular tidying.

The best thing about this office was the floor-to-ceiling plate glass window that made up its fourth wall. Non-stop light and the soap opera on the street outside made up for the cramped quarters (four desks in a tiny space). I usually had the place to myself in the mornings.

This particular morning—and believe me it was before 10:00 a.m.—I was collecting and sorting the overnight faxes in the front office. And, a hard boy stumbled into view. He’s my father’s worst nightmare. Pale skin, muscles popping and rippling underneath a white tank, and baggy pants desperate to drop. Oh, don’t let me forget the beyond tacky gold chain—big and hefty—with a baseball cap on a tilt. It all adds up to WRONG.

And, he was stinko. He couldn’t walk straight, and he was brown-bagging the poison. Did I drop my eyes from horror? Hell, no. Mama watched dolly stagger by enjoying the show. He was rather amusing, and, well, hot. I’ve always liked stupid boys with hard bodies. I can’t bring them home for dinner, but that’s not why they’re here on Earth. Not by a long shot.

Mr. Stinko must have attracted someone else’s attention before my lusty eye tracked his bum stroll. A black-and-white pulls up, and two uniforms start asking him questions. Yeah, that didn’t go well. He started to mouth off and eventually resist. The uniforms had him slammed up on the car with the legs spread. He’s screaming and struggling. So stupid. Even hotter.

I don’t usually find Adrien Brody attractive. He’s been on my skeevy radar since that forced kiss with Halle at the Oscars. But, Brody is hitting that stupid dolly stroll just right.