a Barak & Sheba Article

Small Town Connections....
Friday Feb 19, 2010

Mom said, let's grab some butter, mayo and a chocolate bar from the store. She pointed at the Corner Store, which was situated across the light. The only light, I might add, in that small town. Not that the geographic margins of the town were in any way small… no. The rural area of Upstate NY was over 100 square miles – easily over 10 miles by 10 miles.

Regardless, there we were. Idling in her car, seatbelts fastened, stopped at the red flashing light at the Y in the middle of town. I knew the Left fork was the entry to the more populated areas heading toward a Major City 30 or so miles west. The right fork? Well… that led to parts unknown. Perhaps the Adirondack Mountain ranges, maybe over the ridgeline into Massachusetts or possibly meandering for miles and miles through the foothills. I don't know.

But there was a blinking light. It was moderate staccato of red on our side. I knew that. Moving my head, I tried to see around to the other sides, you know - to get an angle on the opposing lights, but to no avail. Due to the lack of traffic during my pause and observe period, I conceded it didn't really matter anyway. So I proceeded with caution. Driving slowly across the street, and into the Corner Store's parking lot.

I parked the car, and went into the small market. It was just as the name implied it would be. A Corner Store. From the door, I could see all the way to the 8 foot deli counter diagonally across the 3 short "aisles." They were a metal affair, with lots of open space. Partly due to the neatly organized shelves and partly due to the fact they only had one or two rows deep of grocery items. All of the essentials, but not a large selection. There was a row of freezers lining the wall, with mostly local products, dairy from a local farm. Ice Cream and butter from the local creamery. Fresh chickens from another local supplier. Many of the refrigerated items with obviously home printed labels.

I just picked up the items, when a friendly voice called out. Anything I can help ya with? It was warm, friendly and had just a muted hint of NY accent. He had obviously lived in NYC, or close to it, but that was a while ago. He was tall, inch or three taller than me, and had a paunch. It was a substantial potbelly from missing a year or ten of workouts and living a happy life. But his arms and wrists were thick, and his shoulders were broad.

As I walked up, he grinned that grin that I see in the mirror once in a while. Through no command of thought, my own mischievous smile lit up to match his. I asked if he had any Drakes Cakes. I explained that I didn't live on the east coast any more, and in Columbus we don't have Drakes Funny Bones. He shook his head. Nope. And he paused.

I supplied what I thought to be the information he was searching for… Drakes Funny Bones. Kinda like a chocolate covered chocolate cake Twinkie with … Peanut butter filling – he finished. His smile widened, and he explained that he was a bit of a “convenience store confectionary connoisseur.” He patted his paunch and then pointed at mine. You and I didn't get these by not indulging ourselves once in a while… and most likely, much more often.

Yes, I know about Funny Bones. I'd grab em once in a while. They weren't my favorite; not like HoHos or Ring Dings... He continued, you can probably find 'em at a Walmart. But not at any of the smaller stores or gas stations around here. Then he stopped, considered me closely for a moment. What got you to stay in Columbus?

I laughed and remarked … it certainly wasn't the food. Continuing, I explained that every time I came out to the east coast, I always go out and get a couple things to keep me sane. I get a hand tossed pizza from an Italian Pizzeria; a sandwich from a good deli; some fresh Dunkin Donuts; and finally … He completed for me - Nathans French Fries! We both broke out in laughter.

He explained that too was his weakness. Even though he had become a vegetarian years ago, he could still indulge. I went on to explain that I had heard the only place in Ohio to get them was at a Movie Theater. He was stunned. I was saddened. We both had fond memories from childhood of those fried sexy things in the yellow paper bowl. Yes. Nathan's Famous French Fries. Those thick crinkle cut slices of heaven.

His preference was with Vinegar, and mine was Ketchup, but there it was. That moment of intimacy and connection. Two strangers, an unlikely meeting in a remote town. Taking a moment to recognize the similarity. To communicate and stumble somehow onto that one thing. That bond, the common thread that connected us. Just like kink.

We are all individuals, from all walks of life. There are disagreements, arguments, debates, beliefs opposing and cooperating viewpoints. He hates this, She Loves that, They are neutral about this other thing. One person supports this cause, another can't believe they would. Squibble. Squabble. Hug. Slap. He Said. She Said. Same here on Fet, and with Kink. You might like Fire. I like Whips. She might like Rope. He likes Canes. They have this party. We have that Party. Their Munch is on Tuesday. Those people prefer a Friday Meet N Greet.

But. There is this thing. Nathan's Famous French Fries. Here on Fet, we are all kinky. We love the connection. We thrive on the energy. The Sensation. No matter where you are from, and what you like on your kink? We still have that common bond. Let's just look at what we have connecting us… and try not to focus on what's keeping us apart.

©2014 Barak & Brat Sheba

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