Museum of Oddity

It was always something he did around this time of year; when the museum of oddity was in town. John had never even asked or inquired about how or why the tour had been started. Some speculated that it was Andy Warhol's and Jim Morrison's brain child conceived over liquor, drugs, and all other types of psychedelic wanderings. If that were the case, John thought of it more as a joke; a joke that everyone fell for just because of the attachment of high profile celebrity names to it. Whatever entity or force that had conceived this museum of oddity didn't really matter; John had been falling for the joke for ten years now.

Ever spring, when life was coming back in all forms, beautiful and ugly, the traveling show came through town beckoning for you to decide your standards. The bearded lady was on the low end of oddity when it came to a show like this composed of all the exhibits that hadn't made the truck stop cut. Ropes made from hair of amazon tribes' men who believed it as a wright of passage to be able to be bald. Upon birth it was said among these tribes that no one would be allowed to touch or even comment on the hair of an infant. It would grow to incredible lengths; 14 or 15 years; until the said male was believed to be ready to face the test of killing another living soul and could shed his womanly hair. This particular exhibit took up roughly three fourths of a 30 foot wall. Keeping with the amazon theme a monkey skeleton composed of two heads followed; the super glue used this time could barely be made out. Only if you had a seasoned eye for the museum could you no recognize the farce.

The Amazon theme went on for a quarter of the museum which had no been regulated to a two story art studio in downtown Phoenix. At one point the convention center had welcomed the museum of oddity but, with dwindling interest, the curator had to settle for more lowly accommodations.  John hadn't minded the change. On the contrary he had welcomed it because it made the curator become more selective on what he would show on a given evening of the exhibit. Four nights was almost enough to cram in the four semi's that traveled with the museum. John always enjoyed the first night more, though, because it made for the most adequate people watching; he began to see others like him that were the die hards; had marked the day on the calender when the museum would roll into town.

Tonight it consisted of the prototypical "hipsters" as the younger generation called them. A shorter male, late 20's to early 30's, with a purple blazer, tan skinny jeans, and pink glasses; constantly rubbing the stubble forming on his chin and moving his eyes to the outside light pole; making sure his bike was still there.  His date who was more beautiful then she let on and gave the air of "what is she doing with that guy?" She was the same height as him, dark black hair; almost like black liquorice. Her lips were bright red and her makeup paled her face just enough to emphasize the hair and lips.  Her black dress with white polka dots was just an added bonus and John had to concentrate on the exhibits so as not to be distracted by ever man's dream.

He turned his attention back to the Amazon hairy rock. Said to exist in large quantities next to rivers, these rocks had developed afros of what looked to be actual human hair. John thought it was perhaps just black moss but he did not know enough on the subject of vegetation to be sure.  The rocks themselves looked to way around ten pounds and were no different from boulders found next to rushing lakes; except they could play in the NBA in the late '70's. Stealing a glance back and forth ever so couple of seconds to the cartoon lady allowed John to not see to his left; where another patron of the museum was approaching and looking for conversation.

"I see you've found the rocks; odd little creatures aren't they?" said a slightly pitched vocie; causing John to shift his head to the left; raising his hand to rub away the hair that stuck from the jerk.

The man was around John's height, maybe a little shorter. The smell of wine and cheap somewhat refreshing cologne, an ocean breeze came to mind, hit John's nostrils first. The man wore pink slacks and a pink blazer, over a yellow V-neck that was just the right cut not to be considered outrageous. Black rimmed glasses extruding from his head giving off a somewhat Harry Potter vibe. His hair was ruffled but the man was clean shaven enough to care. He looked to be caught at the age where one wanted to admit they were in their late 20's and not 35. Judging from the looks of the man John thought he didn't want to admit a lot of things. It was exactly these kind of people that kept John coming back; nothing short of interesting with the odd.

"Odd you call them creatures. Is that bad? To use a word like odd at this place?" John asked.

"Oh, no...not at all. But, you have to be conservative with it, you know. You don't want to be the walking cliche of the whole exhibit; the man who won't stop pointing out the obvious. That's why you use words like "creatures" when describing rocks; its adds to the aura."

"Like your outfit? Sorry man, but come on? Did you dress in the dark?" John asked; frightfully good at being an asshole to unsuspecting strangers.

"At least someone gets it. I thought the chap over there in purple would say something. Instead I think he is overly serious about it all. Sad world. My name is Churchill by the way. I'm sorry, introductions at a place like this are always never done correctly," the man said; the British accent coming out unbeknownst to John. Funny he didn't hear it earlier.

"You're right, it wouldn't add to the aura. But, my name is John. Pleased to meet you Churchill. I'm glad I'm not the only one who wasn't bugged by that guy. And that girl; she could do much better."

"I'm not too sure about that. Would you really want a girl who came to a thing like this? Or maybe that would be ideal because in some twisted way that's the only reason you and I came here; to try to find a girl like that," Churchill said swerving his eyes to the girl.

John thought about it; while investigating the elephant with three tusks. Fourteen years of strolling and patrolling oddity on one night of the year; to only find himself looking more at the ladies then the exhibits. Too come to a thing like this, though, took serious commitment to having one's mind dumped down for multiple hours.  Some years John would only stay for ten minutes before he couldn't take the cheesiness of it all; he would leave and vow never to return, to never laugh at the joke again. But, he always found himself back and laughing at every obvious flaw in every exhibit.

"I don't know Churchill; I always come for the mockery of it all; the blatantly obvious tirade.  In some horrible middle class, well off way; paying for shit like this without thinking twice about it makes you feel fortunate."

"That's one way to look at it. You sound like a seasoned vet of things like this; as far as you know I might have just lost a bet to wear this two piece some would dare call a suit. I could have thought the only place that was proper to display it would be this museum. You think that would fly at the bars? You think it would get a kick out of some?"

"I don't know you well enough Churchill but....I think you dressed the part to pick up girls like that," John said; pointing his head to the right, back to the girl.

"By god John...you may know me better then my own mum. I'm going over to talk to her once she separates from Professor Hipster; toward the Antarctic exhibit. I hear the albino walrus is where all the flashing is coming from. Won't you join me? We can stop on the way and get the grape juice samples their calling wine," Churchill said; pointing behind John.

"I can't approach at once; I have to let you fail first. Though, it is always easier starting then picking up the mess. I'll go but, you have to let me lead," John said.

"That's the spirit, old chap. Straighten those Harry Potter glasses and lead on," Churchill said;drifting from John's mind and setting John back to reality in front of the elephant with three tusks. John adjusted his glasses, puffed out his pink blazer arms and walked toward the Arctic.

The exhibits always rubbed off on the patrons at the museum of oddity.