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Christmas With Louise
As a joke, my buddy used to hang a pair of panty hose over his
fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa
to fill them. What they say about Santa checking the list twice
must be true because every Christmas morning, although Jay's
kids' stockings were overflowed, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty.
One year I decided to make his dream come true. I went in search
of an inflatable love doll. They don't sell those things at Wal-Mart.
I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown. If you've never
been in an X-rated store, don't go. You'll only confuse yourself. I was there
an hour saying things like, "What does this do?" "You're kidding me!" "Who
would buy that?" Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section. I wanted
to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll that could also substitute
as a passenger in my truck so I could use the car pool lane during rush
hour.
Finding what I wanted was difficult. "Love Dolls" come in many different
models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do
things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled for "Lovable
Louise." She was at the bottom of the price scale. To call Louise a
"doll" took a huge leap of imagination. On Christmas Eve and with the help
of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to life. My buddy's wife was in on the
plan and let me in during the wee morning hours.
Long after Santa had come and gone, I filled the dangling pantyhose with
Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank what
remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. I went home, and laughed to
myself for a couple of hours.
The next morning my buddy called to say that Santa had been to his
house and left a present that had made him VERY happy but had left the dog
confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark
some more. We all agreed that Louise should remain in her panty hose so the
rest of his the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional
Christmas dinner. His grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in
the door. "What the hell is that?" she asked. My buddy quickly
explained, "It's a doll." "Who would play with something like that?"
Granny snapped.
I had several candidates in mind, but kept my mouth shut. "Where are her
clothes?" Granny continued. "Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran,"
Jay said, to steer her into dining room. But Granny was relentless. "Why
doesn't she have any teeth?" Again, I could have answered, but why would
I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance
with my buddy saying, "Hang on Granny, hang on!"
His grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me
and said, " Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?" I told him she
was Jay's friend. A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel,
talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we
realized this might be his Grandpa's last Christmas at home.
The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died,
who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise
like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she lurched from the panty
hose, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the
sofa. The cat screamed. I passed cranberry sauce through my nose,
and his Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering
mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. My buddy fell back over his chair and wet his pants.
Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the car.
It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember.
Later in my buddy's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to
decide the cause of Louise's collapse. We discovered that Louise had suffered
from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh. Fortunately, thanks to a
wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health.
As a joke, my buddy used to hang a pair of panty hose over his
fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa
to fill them. What they say about Santa checking the list twice
must be true because every Christmas morning, although Jay's
kids' stockings were overflowed, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty.
One year I decided to make his dream come true. I went in search
of an inflatable love doll. They don't sell those things at Wal-Mart.
I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown. If you've never
been in an X-rated store, don't go. You'll only confuse yourself. I was there
an hour saying things like, "What does this do?" "You're kidding me!" "Who
would buy that?" Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section. I wanted
to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll that could also substitute
as a passenger in my truck so I could use the car pool lane during rush
hour.
Finding what I wanted was difficult. "Love Dolls" come in many different
models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do
things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled for "Lovable
Louise." She was at the bottom of the price scale. To call Louise a
"doll" took a huge leap of imagination. On Christmas Eve and with the help
of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to life. My buddy's wife was in on the
plan and let me in during the wee morning hours.
Long after Santa had come and gone, I filled the dangling pantyhose with
Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank what
remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. I went home, and laughed to
myself for a couple of hours.
The next morning my buddy called to say that Santa had been to his
house and left a present that had made him VERY happy but had left the dog
confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark
some more. We all agreed that Louise should remain in her panty hose so the
rest of his the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional
Christmas dinner. His grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in
the door. "What the hell is that?" she asked. My buddy quickly
explained, "It's a doll." "Who would play with something like that?"
Granny snapped.
I had several candidates in mind, but kept my mouth shut. "Where are her
clothes?" Granny continued. "Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran,"
Jay said, to steer her into dining room. But Granny was relentless. "Why
doesn't she have any teeth?" Again, I could have answered, but why would
I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance
with my buddy saying, "Hang on Granny, hang on!"
His grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me
and said, " Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?" I told him she
was Jay's friend. A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel,
talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we
realized this might be his Grandpa's last Christmas at home.
The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died,
who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise
like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she lurched from the panty
hose, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the
sofa. The cat screamed. I passed cranberry sauce through my nose,
and his Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering
mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. My buddy fell back over his chair and wet his pants.
Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the car.
It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember.
Later in my buddy's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to
decide the cause of Louise's collapse. We discovered that Louise had suffered
from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh. Fortunately, thanks to a
wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health.
