Gimps Need Love, Too

One of the best parts of living in Playa del Rey is the view of the Marina harbor. Every 4th of July, people in our community walk down Falmouth Avenue and gather along the edge of the fenced-off cliff to watch the fireworks. This year, J and I decided to drive and take in the festivities from the car. Mags was snoring in the back but as always, the slightest noise awakened him and it was as if he consumed 10 cans of Jolt cola - awake, awake, awake!

We arrived at 8:00 p.m. and secured a freaking awesome spot, directly opposite the harbor. There were a few other cars and some groups of people setting up their chairs. J was watching the crowd through their rearview mirror. All of a sudden he did a double-take, furrowed his brow and said, "Hmmm."

"What?" I said, delicately removing Magnus's finger from my eyelid.

"Behind us," he said. "That chick has a fake leg."

"That's not that unusual," I said.

"Well, she's on top of some dude."

"Nooooooo!" My head spun around like the kid from "The Exorcist." I had to see this freakiness firsthand. And I didn't have to turn around that far. Directly behind our vehicle was a long-haired woman, heavy-set, wearing a fringed black leather jacket, cowboy boots and a peach-colored prosthetic leg. If you looked hard enough, you could make out the figure of a man underneath her. Her real leg was wrapped around his waist and she was heaving up against him. No matter that dozens of people were standing around waiting for the annual fireworks display. This couple was dry humping fast and furious. It was only a matter of time. Once the sky darkened, it would be full-force screwing in the portable chair.

Never was I so ready for a patriotic fireworks display to begin.