Another weekend without you: Friday- Part 2

[jack_babalon]

11:25pm-Outside the Abbey

We've been standing on line for about forty minutes now and have moved a grand total of thirty feet. That's not even a foot a minute for those of you too lazy to do the math. Now if you look from across the street you'll see me right there. Yep, that's me inching my way to the awning, decked out in a dark blue pinstripe suit jacket, black velvet trousers, a Virgin of Guadalupe button-up and a black with silver highlighted Luchadore mask. The Magpie is in front of me, yeah that's him... done up smooth in the bondage gear with a bowler hat, looking like an S&M version of a Clockwork Orange Droog. As you can see we're tightly sandwiched betweeen a Green Beret with his demure little piece of chicken gufawing at the other costumes and the guy behind us dressed up as some kind of clown-pimp along with his old lady, who is working 'ye-old-medieval-fairy-in-a-corset-routine'.

"You know what this is like?" I ask the Magpie with an excitement that makes the question completely rhetorical.

"What?" He says bored with the answer already.

"It's like what Dragon*Con would look like if it was held in Buckhead." I answer with that smug sense of satisfaction I get whenever I think i'm being witty.

"Heh" The Magpie nods forgetting what i've said already, "Hey look! We're moving."

It's true. We take four steps and stop. We stand there about five minutes when a skinny Jesus of Nazareth squeezes in between us and the Green Beret, and makes his way up the grassy hill, with a homemade cross bigger than him being dragged behind him on his back. He makes his way up to the front of the entrance where he's promptly stopped by the cop they got working the door.

Jesus waves for back up. Two blond pieces of euro-skank emerge from behind the door and wave back. "Heyyyy...let Heem in. He'ssss'lright...." They testify with a slur of strange accents. The cop just stands his ground, eyeballing the Son of God, not quite sure if he's really 'alright' or not. Finally, an Edwardian era valet(complete with powdered wig, sparkle gold valet uniform with matching gold stockings) slides out from between the euro-skanks, gingerly walks over to the Cop, whispers in his ear and then promptly disappears back from behind the blond veil from which he appeared.

The cop nods and Jesus is allowed into the Abbey.

Friends in high places and all that.

Ten minutes later we move another four feet.

*****