I had first gotten the pink crayon from a princess party. It was part of the goodie bag. Once I had gotten home, Chris blew it up for me. Then it sat at the edge of my room until Saturday when I decided to bring it to the party.
Walking to a party, I was carrying a huge inflatable life-size pink crayon. Dressed in goddess wear adorned with a crown of real leaves, vine and flowers…I got shouts from passing pedestrians and cars.
“Nice crayon!” someone shouted from the window a new Lexus. That car parked a few moments later. The people got out but didn’t even look at me as they passed me to walk into a bar.
I kept walking.
At the party, we carried the pink crayon from room to room. Sometimes I would playfully jab it at someone, particularly the birthday boy who had once tried to stab me with it when he came into my room.
It deflated over time. Somewhere in the pink crayon, there was a leak. Random people-possibly stoned-took turns blowing it back up.
I played twisting the baton with it. Then a rod fight. Then I let lie on the couch.
Some people did some inappropriate things with it.
Later I said, it is my parting gift and left the crayon that had once been part of a princess party for a 6 year old in a house full of liquor, twentysomethings, music and other unmentionables.