a little pink package

I was just walking blissfully in the sunlight, basking in the joy of the working week ending and the weekend kicking in.

As I cruised through the streets a vibrant pink package on the floor caught my eye and a wave of sadness washed over me.

It was square in shape, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand and had the letters d u r e x emblazoned on the front.
It seemed to be unopened, its contents undisturbed.

My first instinct was to crouch down and pick it up and pop it in the nearest bin, but two things stopped me. Over indulging in fat friday at work meant my skirt was a little tight and sudden bending may cause rippage plus the thought of picking up something whose destiny was to end up on a mans willy freaked me a little.

But I felt sad for the little pink package.

What if it had fallen, accidentally, from a young suitors wallet who, after years of heavy over the clothes petting and many deep should we, shouldn’t we, conversations with their girlfriend had decieded tonight was the night. That pink package was never going to realise its true potential, it was never going to play its role in the game of hide the sausage; and two young lovers were destined to be disappointed.

What if it were meant to clothe the manhood of a man stuck in an illicit affair who instead took the risk of going in naked and then as a consequence ended up inpregnanting his mistress and then his world really did turn upside down.

What if it were meant to dress a chap who was deflowering a willing maiden?

What if it were meant for a teenage boy who just wanted to ‘posh’ it up. (Sorry mum)

I walked on by, taking one last glum look at the abondoned pink package sitting on the floor, then I saw a spotty teen suddenly lurch towards it.

“Glen, Glen” he called out to a fellow of same height and acne ratio, “look ‘ere at this, we can stick it on our heads and blow it up at Mick’s party later.”

Poor package, would have been better off left in the gutter…

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10 thoughts on “a little pink package”

  1. For a terrible minute I thought you were going to say you seized on it and pocketed it. You evidently, given your vibrant musings, have a novel inside you. Best to ease it out sooner rather than later. I’ll buy it.

  2. I love FAT Friday at work. Alas, I also over indulge in FAT Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday too.
    I have a son who will one day be a Glen. It is terrifying!

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