I assumed that, after the initial stampede to get into the exhibition hall, there would be an ebb and flow to the action, a kind of natural rise and fall of crowdedness that would allow us to get around more easily after everyone had bought all their limited edition figurines.
My assumptions were based on blithe ignorance.
The crowds did not cease. Nor did they ease off, thin out or scale back.
People were everywhere.
Walking from one end of the hall to the other causes everyone to accidentally get to second base. I didn’t have this many breasts pushed into me slow dancing in Grade Eight. And I’m not just talking about female breasts. There is a heavy contingent of well-endowed gentlemen wandering about, and I don’t mean down below.
And when has shame disappeared from our culture?
I remember being a kid and worrying about who was going to go Shirts and who was going to Skins in gym class, but these days, there doesn’t seem to be such a stigma. There are people out there walking around as proud as punch, big, round people with plenty of self, and they’re wearing skin tight leotards, thongs, side cleavage-revealing dresses and bodystockings. I’m not saying they shouldn’t be wearing those things, because I fully support anyone’s decision to do what he or she thinks is right, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else. But that doesn’t mean that he or she should.
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