The Flashing: In Three Acts


This is one of my favorite storiesI’ve been
presenting it to audiences for many many years. I'll be breaking it up into three acts, as the enormity of this peculiarity is best savored over time.

The story takes place in Philly, about five or six years ago.
I was living at 15th and Fairmount and going to school full time. It was a Wednesday night,
Karaoke Night at McGillin’s, and my friends and I were enjoying some drinks and talking about life. I remember somewhere in the course of the evening opening the topic of "flashers" for discussion. I felt no one was flashing anymore, and perhaps it had fallen out of fashion as a crime. Everyone concurred, we laughed, and moved on to the next random topic of conversation.

Act One:

Now it’s Sunday...I'm rollerblading along Kelly Drive in Fairmount Park, something I do with frequency. In addition to being an excellent cardio workout, it is perhaps the only sport where I show any aptitude. My usual route is to travel from Boathouse Row up to the Falls Bridge and back again—an absolutely lovely ride through a forest of sculptures.

I was on the last leg of my journey, I'd just passed the Playing Angels, and was just about to hit the Spirit of Enterprise when things went terribly awry. At a rapid rate of speed, I turned a curve and spotted an old man standing just off to the side of my path. He was shirtless, wearing a pair of very short cut-off jeans. His hands were in his pockets, and he was laughing hysterically.

As I passed, he hiked up his shorts, revealing a testicle, perhaps both, from his left pant leg. Albeit slightly unorthodox, make no mistake of it—I’d been flashed.

mind was filled with shock and disbelief as I sped away. As is my way, this soon turned to rage. "How dare you!" and a bevy of four-lettered words sprang from my tongue. I had briefly toyed with the idea of picking up a stick and returning to beat him downI quickly reconsidered.

"What are the odds," I asked myself, "We were just talking about this the other night!" The irony of the situation began to calm me down, and soon the humor began to materialize. I couldn't wait to tell my friends.

Little did I know, this was merely the beginning
just the start of what would later become a bonafide phenomenon.

please stay tuned for Act Two

1 comment:

  1. You're living my parallel life. Stories like this (which I promise would happen to me if I still lived in Philly and skated Kelly Drive) make me miss that colorful city. A homeless guy laying on a subway grate kicked my friend as she walked by him on Drexel's campus one day. Now THAT's brotherly love.