Traffic Violation Saturday ... Part 3
All eyes were on me as the Mayor began speaking. I could tell he was annoyed because he kept glancing over his shoulder and scowling at me. Each time he would raise his voice a little more in order to be heard above the catcalls, whistles and clapping, and resume his speech ... which droned on and on in an orgy of self-congratulatory oratory about the efficacy of public crucifatory humiliation as a meaningful deterrent to traffic offenses by young women.
Then things got worse. I suddenly developed a muscle spasm in my back and began to frantically gyrate and writhe about on my cross, in addition to howling like a wounded banshee.
Eager to get a better view reporters and onlookers alike crowded forward, around and past a sputtering mayor and his official party. In a matter of seconds the Mayor was speaking to empty space.
I must have been putting on quite a show, dancing naked in the blazing sun ...bathed in sweat, muscles rippling, my breasts bouncing and swaying from side to side. So wild were my frenzied movements that my cross was shaking and creaking.
In the end the Mayor had little choice but to give in to the lurid spectacle taking place behind his back. With a sigh of exasperation and a maliciously resentful look in his eyes, he turned around to watch, the text of his unfinished speech crumpled in the fist of his right hand.
Then, as quickly as it had come on, the muscle spasms in my back eased. Relieved of acute stress, I slumped down to hang, panting and shaking from my exertions. I thought for a moment I was going to pass out.
But in an attempt to save the situation for his boss, the Mayor's aide announced to the media that the time had come to ask any questions they might have. Their immediate response was to raise their microphones and recorders, not to the Mayor, but toward me, and begin clammoring for my attention.
"Ummmm ... Ms. Moore ... can you tell us what moving violation got you a sentence of six hours of public humiliation in the park?" asked an earnest looking female reporter.
"I think my skirt was too short ..."
"Ms. Moore! Lupus Blitzer here, CNN. Do you feel humiliated hanging up there naked like that with everyone staring at ... ummmm .... your .... ummm ... at your ... ummmm ....well you know?"
"You mean my bare tits and ass? Stupid question. ... duh ... how do you think I feel?"
"Ms. Moore! Reilly Harrass, Fox News. If I might say so, I think you have lovely tits and a delightfully tight little ass!"
"What's your question?"
"Ms. Moore! T.H.Tree, Nailus Martyrs News Service. I've heard that crucifixion can be an erotically stimulating experience. Tell me, are you wet? How was it? Would you care to comment?"
"Go back in your cave!"
At that point the Mayor's aide intervened, brusquely informing everyone that Q and A time was over. It was four pm, he said, and I had served my sentence. Everyone had to stand back so that the police officers and matrons could get me down.
The two mattons arrived carrying a stretcher. While one officer mounted a wooden box to release my wrists from the crossbeam, the other caught me as I collapsed into his arms. My ankles were swiftly untied and I was lowered carefully onto the waiting stretcher to be carried away, the box containing my clothing nestled between my feet.
"Where are they taking her?" A reporter called out as the stretcher was lifted from the ground.
"To the courthouse," answered the frumpy-looking matron. "the Mayor is having her arrested again, this time it's a misdemeanor charge for public indecency and wantonly disrespectful obstruction of an official civic event ... Judge Hickcox presiding.
