In one of the shadowy alleyways of Ames, very close to a railway crossing, is a nondescript shop with darkened windows and dusty, grimy doors. All form of suspicious characters emerge from these doors, clutching black plastic bags and glancing furtively to each side. The sign above the door is crusted with dirt, and proclaims its name rather warily: "Pleasure Palace". I knew it was a sex shop (whatever that means). And I think I looked down my nose, in pompous self-righteousness at the people whom I saw materialize through those doors. And yet they held for me a sort of morbid fascination, and I was drawn to those doors by dark forces seemingly beyond my control.
Feeling like the sacrificial virgin, I gave in to the will of fate (or intense inquisitiveness, in this case), and decided to enter the "palace", expecting to chance upon an orgy of monsters who would instantly tear me limb from limb. I took a deep breath and finally mustered enough courage to walk through those doors. And in that instant, my rather ostentatious fantasies of being attacked and molested by perverts of every description were ruthlessly dashed to pieces! Rather than descend into a swarthy, atramentous, pseudo hell, I entered and was greeted by a cheery, bright shop! Holding fort was a cheery shop assistant. And the radio played cheery music. Needless to say I felt rather stupid, especially when the young clerk cheerily informed me that students got fifteen percent off everything! Having so cruelly doused my excitement, the shop no longer held any fascination for me. And so I returned, disillusioned, but wiser!
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2 comments:
I had to look up "atramentous".
O wait, now the spell checker has red-lined it too :)
It is always fun to read your posts.
Hee hee... I promise you I didn't make that word up. It means ink-like and dark. But I am sure you figured that one out. :)
I have fun writing them, glad to see that it spills over to the reader as well. :)
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