Why You Shouldn't Judge the Guy in the Porno Theater

Dear Hot! XXX! Adult! Excitement! Emporium,

I would like to apologize for the deeds I did in your establishment on the morning of July 16, 2012. Because I managed to escape before the authorities arrived, you can take comfort in the fact that this apology is not a part of a court-ordered sentencing. I am genuinely sorry, and don't need The Man to tell me so.

Genuineness verified, let's get to the apologizing! First things first:

It Was Not What You Think

What you, and your employees, and your sad, sad customers think happened? That's an abomination. Public masturbation is a completely unacceptable form of masturbation, and certainly isn't one of my favorites.

Getty Which are, for the record, private, semi-private and wind-assisted.

That was not what I was doing, though I do understand why you might think that. Yes, I did have my hand right down the front of my pants when you gave me my first warning. And yes, by the time you threatened to call the police, I did have both hands down the front of my pants. And yes, I was moaning quite a bit. All classic signs of onanism, so yes, if I were you, I'd think I was punching the one-eyed luncheon meat, too.

But I wasn't.

I had a chinchilla in there.

But It Wasn't Sexual

You run a pornographic theater, so I'm going to make a few assumptions about your educational background and just explain what a chinchilla is. A chinchilla is a type of rodent, maybe a bit bigger than a squirrel, known for its soft fur. Chinchillas make excellent pets, and can, with minimal effort, be placed inside your underpants.

Getty All aboard, little buddy!

Now I know what you're thinking. Of course a guy with a rodent down the front of his pants is doing something sexual. That's why our pants have extra space in there!

But I swear, this one time, it wasn't sexual.

You see, chinchillas are a bit rare; well bred examples can fetch a couple hundred dollars. And there's a bunch of regulations, and licenses, and just like a ton of professional behavior necessary to breed these things properly. All of this only raises chinchilla costs further, and it's only natural that creative entrepreneurs would move into the lower-cost spaces of this market. Without going into all the details, I basically work as an interface between slightly unprofessional chinchilla breeders and completely unprofessional chinchilla wholesalers, two groups with a decided interest in discretion. If you wanted to wrap this all up into a single description, I guess you could call me a chinchilla mule.

Again, this is not sexual.

As you can imagine, my work occasionally ... well, always requires that I deal with pretty shady customers, and its often in my best interest to walk into meetings with concealed chinchillas. And, on occasion, I also sometimes have to run out of said shady-customer meet-and-greets with concealed chinchillas. Which indeed was exactly the situation you observed me in when I strode lurchily into your establishment that fateful morning.

So already I hope you can see that this is all just reasonable as fuck. "Why even apologize!?" I hear you saying. "If nothing sexual was going on, I should be apologizing to you!" you go on. And while your sentiment is appreciated, I do have to admit that ...

There Was a Part That Was a Little Bit Sexual

Not for me, though.

I'll let you in on a little trade secret: Showing up at a black-market chinchilla demo with a single chinchilla is a total amateur move. Let's say you've got a big deal with a heavy chinchilla hitter, and you pull out your sample chinchilla, and its a little sweaty or whatever. That's not going to look good. Chinchillas don't sweat, right? Do you get what I'm saying?

Anyways, you'd look like an idiot, which was why I had multiple chinchillas in my underpants that day.

Trade Secret #2: It is basically impossible to tell what gender a chinchilla is. They don't wear skirts or, like, Ed Hardy T-shirts. You can't tell which one likes cars more, or see whether a bunch of them go to the bathroom at the same time. So yeah, I accidentally had a mixed-gender chinchilla pairing in there, and, well, I guess one thing led to another.

It was the pheromones, I'm thinking.

Also critically, I was hiding out in a porn theater, and I am a man. "Are you?" I hear you asking. Yes, I am. Anyways, there was kind of a tenting effect going on, which probably opened up a lot of room for the chinchillas, which was evidently the last thing they needed to get to fucking.