The Infiltrator: A Fuzzy Fetish, Part 3 A comedy article
by Harmon Leon 1,995 4 04/22/2010 06:34 AM 1946 views
I was infiltrating the strange world of angora fetishes, working my way down London's famous Oxford Street shopping district [Read Part 1 here]. I was determined to actually try on a sweater, and my last stop didn't disappoint.
INFILTRATION #3 STORE: DH Evans, a middle-of-the-road department store PRICE: $59.00 QUALITY: A bit tarty. Not really my style. PERSONA: Hooligan/Gangsta
I make a quick stop for another Brandy Alexander, and found to my horror that I was starting to like them. Mmmmm, Brandy Alexanders. Wait! MUST RESIST!
I've put on a black stocking cap and shades. On my right knuckles, I write with a marker pen the letters S-W-E-A. On my left hand, I write T-E-R-S.
There are two elderly women standing by the angora sweater rack. "This one is darling," says one.
"Oh yes, it's quite lovely," says the other.
"It's short, like the girls are wearing."
I join in. "I really love angora!"
We smile. We know. I hold a lilac angora sweater up to myself.
Looking into the mirror, I sway around like a schoolgirl. The uniformed Security Guard is eyeing me. He secretly hates me. But what can he do? There's no law against being odd ... is there? He makes an angry face.
I hear a voice behind me. "Can I help you?" asks a lovely young brunette salesclerk.
Why yes, she can. "Do you think this sweater would look nice on me?" I ask.
"Oh ... I think it would look lovely!"
She laughs. I don't. It occurs to me that shopping for women's clothes is a great way to meet women. I must do this again, but under different circumstances.
"Would this look nice with a skirt?"
I mime the skirt area with my hands.
"It would be lovely," she says again with a smirk.
I spew my philosophy. "Is it wrong for a man to want to wear a ladies' angora sweater?"
"Why, of course not." She raises her eyebrows and giggles. I look serious.
She shows me and the angora sweater to the dressing room, and draws the curtain. Just me, alone with my lilac angora sweater. I slip off my shirt and put it on. It feels quite nice. Only the finest angora wool against my skin, mmmmmm. Wait! MUST RESIST! This is what drove Ed Wood mad. I will not be consumed by a sweater fetish. I force my thoughts to football, and the women of Baywatch.
I look into the mirror. My midriff is showing. I can see my navel. I look like a tart -- cheap and easy. There is muffled talking and giggling coming from the other side of the curtain. I can't make out what they're saying, but I do hear the word "bloke."
I pop out. There's a few more people gathered than before. I speak slowly and softly. "Do you think this sweater makes me look fat?"
She eyes me seriously. "No, you look lovely," she says with confidence. A woman behind her agrees.
"But not fat, right?"
"Why, no!" She's very professional and knows how to answer.
The Security Guard is whispering something to his mate. The two elderly women from before let out a medium laugh, then look at each other. Perhaps I helped them to decide on a purchase. I take a long, serious look into the mirror and head back toward the dressing room.
On the way I accidentally knock some cardigan sweaters on the floor. It must be from the Brandy Alexanders. "I'm sorry!"
"Don't worry, I'll get that," she says.
I change back into my clothes and reappear.
"I need to think about it."
I pause a moment. Has my Hooligan persona been tarnished by this cross dressing escapade?
"I've decided to spend my money on kickboxing equipment," I proclaim. Then I strike a pose and leave.
If you enjoyed this article, be sure to check out The Infiltrator: Resume For Disaster, where Harmon Leon tries to get a job using ridiculous resumes.
This really wasn't that funny. An Angora sweater really isn't that outrageously feminine.
Also I really don't see why the German character was necessary. You could easily, EASILY have derived a lot of comedy from this just by picking out the women's clothing and wanting to try them on in earnest. All you did with the German character was annoy a saleswoman who's probably horribly underpaid.
I thought it was hysterical. It takes a lot of balls for a straight guy to try on women's clothing in a store but it takes even more to order a brandy alexander.
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