My wife and I have taken to walking in the local woods because we enjoy the exercise and being in nature. Basically, for fun. But here’s the thing: we never bump into anyone who hasn’t got a dog. And they always assume we’ve got a dog somewhere behind us in the wood. We’ve had people ask us “Where’s your dog?” and “Have you got a dog?” And worst of all, just look at us oddly, as if to say: “In the woods? Without a dog? You perverts.”
The other day, something in us snapped. We borrowed a leash from an understanding neighbour and whenever we bumped into anyone in the woods, we would shout “Bingo! Bingo! Come here boy!” into the woods, while slapping our thighs and shaking our heads and rolling our eyes as if to say “That Bingo! Always getting into trouble!” Anyone we bumped into also rolled their eyes and shook their heads as if they too had encountered Bingo and his unruly ways before.
To complete the illusion, we even carried a bag full of Bingo’s poo. We’re nothing if not responsible in cleaning up after our imaginary dog. Although judging by the size of his stools, Bingo is, in fact, a six foot tall dog-man.
I had suggested we call Bingo “Felcher” which as well as being a very rude word, is one of those lovely catch 22 rude words that people can’t actually get offended at without losing the moral high ground, as the very act of getting offended reveals that they know a great deal about deviant sexual practices and therefore have no right to judge.
However, it was pointing out that shouting “Felcher!” into a wood might feasibly attract a gay man with that proclivity, who would arrive very disappointed when he discovered that we were simply trying to attract an imaginary dog.
So “Bingo” it is.
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