There’s nothing quite so intriguing as a story that is either real or seems so realistic that you can relate to it – either as a whole or perhaps just relating to a character in that story.
I’ve written entire books that were storylined from real events in my life and quite a few more that were based loosely on real events in my life. The rest of what I’ve written is fantasy … or fantasies that I have.
But what I write to you in this posting is a true story. It is not based on anything. It is an actual account of something that happened to me recently. And Stranger Than Fiction , though catchy in sound, really doesn’t even adequately describe it.
For purposes of timeline, the following true story took place in September 2020.
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I love going to Wal-Marts. Most often, I just simply go there for the soul purpose of going there and with no intention of purchasing anything at all. Some of the more interesting times to go there are in the middle of the night when you get to see the most unique human beings on this good Earth.
But 2020 has thrown a monkey wrench into the works in more ways than one. And Wal-Marts have reduced their hours down from being 24/7, giving themselves the nighttime to sanitize the store and protect us all from this global virus epidemic.
The Wal-Marts local to me have since broaden their hours to closing at 11pm. But at the time of this true story, they were closing at 8:30 pm EST. And this specific trip there, unlike most others, actually had a purchasing purpose. I was looking for the Director’s Cut version of Rambo: Last Blood.
Being a Sylvester Stallone fanatic, such a purchase was surely necessary for me to make.
So, at about 7pm that evening, I walked into Wal-Mart and made my way back to the electronics and entertainment section. And I am concentrating hard on every display that has DVDs on it. I’m finding James Bond movies and Harry Potter movies and other Sylvester Stallone movies, but no Director’s Cut version of Rambo: Last Blood. Not giving up, I make my way back to the aisle displays inside the entertainment section where they keep older movies and TV show DVDs.
Maybe what I was looking for was mistakenly put in that section as it was a new release and should have been in the new release section but wasn’t.
Finding the shelves with movies that started with the letter R, I knelt down to the bottom shelf and began to look through the DVDs. To my right, a guy appears – on the far end of the DVD racks. This means he was probably at least 10 or 15 feet away from me.
Paying him no attention, I continue my Rambo search from my squatted position.
Just then, a second person comes running up to this guy.
“Daddy,” she says while bouncing up-n-down on her feet. “Can I get this one?”
Assuming she is holding a movie she wants, I smile at the playful pet name of Daddy that she has called him. In my mind, I’m thinking: Wow, that name has such different meaning for me.
At this point, I’m beginning to give up hope on finding the Director’s Cut of Rambo: Last Blood. But I give the shelf of movies in front of me one more look-over before I call it quits.
Then the guy says to the girl: “I don’t know. Do you feel you’ve been a good girl today?”
Sucking in my lips, I try not to laugh. These two are really playful with each other and I instantly recognize how I’ve not only written about this very scenario in ABDL books but I’ve also been playful with a BabyGirl myself in this fashion … although, I recall being a little quieter about it in public than what these two are being.
Nevertheless, they are playful with each other and it’s been fun to listen to them as I silently remark to myself how perfect their banter is … if in fact that are a Daddy and BabyGirl couple.
But they’re not such a couple ……………………… or so I thought.
I’m getting ready to stand up when I hear the guy say something that makes me freeze in my squatted position.
“Is your diaper wet?” the guy asks her with a quasi Daddy Voice, my eyes growing big-n-wide as I stare straight ahead at that bottom shelf of DVDs in front of me.
It is at that moment I realize that they’re not aware I am a mere 10-15 feet away from them and well within earshot of what they are saying to each other.
I contemplate standing up and walking away quickly so as to not embarrass them. But if I do that, I will ruin the sweet moment they are having. So I decide to stay put and remain frozen in squat, figuring they will soon be done and move on.
“Noooo,” she says as she begins to sway back-n-forth, the swish of the lower hem of her skirt catching my peripheral vision.
But I’m looking straight ahead at the DVDs. So I don’t really have much peripheral vision to see with. And I will tell you that curiosity was beginning to kill the cat, not just because he asked her if her diaper was wet but also because she replied back to him.
She was in a diaper? This couldn’t really be happening, could it? I mean … I understand that people are bolder these days than ever. But there is no way that this is actually happening – practically right next to me in the middle of a Wal-Mart!
Then I think that perhaps they are people who know me, maybe folks who have been to one of the local LLAMA munches. And they were doing this deliberately, perhaps to get my attention. That just seems too conceited of me to be the truth, though. If that was the case, the only way to know for sure would be to turn my head to the right and look at them to see who they are.
However, if I turn my head and look at them, only then to find out that I don’t know them, my invisibility will be lost and this could become quite awkward, if not also embarrassing, for them.
But then I think that perhaps he asked her if her diaper was wet just because she was acting like a baby about getting the movie. It could then be chalked up to playfulness and nothing more.
But I’m human and curiosity now has the best of me. So I begin to turn my head to the right very, very, very slowly. And at that rate, it will take me a good five minutes before blurry peripheral vision gives way to any clarity of sight.
Still, I toss my eyes to the right as much as I can without moving my head any faster than half the speed of smell travels, preparing for the first moment I will have even a partial glimpse of who they are. And what I can see is her still swaying back-n-forth, the lower hem of her skirt swishing as she does so and a familiar crinkling sound that confirms she is indeed wearing a diaper. A plastic-backed one.
I’ve changed quite a few diapers in my time. I know what that sound is coming from.
“Let me check,” the guy says with a Daddy Voice much more so than just quasi this time.
My eyes are now bulging out of their sockets like two hard boiled eggs. He didn’t just say that, did he?
Though still too blurry to help with identification purposes, my eyesight is now able to make out the rough outlines of their bodies. And I can see him take hold of her left forearm with his left hand as his right hand reaches down to the back of her skirt.
“No, Daddy. Not here,” she says with a pouty softened voice that was too perfect for this to be casual playfulness.
“Sweet Pea,” he says with kindness but assertiveness in his tone. “Do you want that movie or not?”
“Yes,” she says with a now-calmer voice of surrender as she stops swaying.
“Then you will let Daddy check your diaper whenever he wants,” the guy replies, reaching down to the lower hem at the back of her skirt.
I so very much want to snap my head to the right quickly so I can see if I know them. Maybe they won’t see the quick motion and I’ll remain invisible. But I’m more concerned with not upsetting them at this point.
He lifts up the back of her skirt and from what I am able to see, the diaper is white on the back. I can’t make out if it has different colored side panels or not. But she is most definitely diapered and he just checked her, right there … in the electronics section of a Wal-Mart at 7pm.
He lowers the skirt and pats her backside, with a most familiar thud sound as he makes his decision.
“Okay,” he says calmly. “You can have the movie.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” she says with a cutesy voice as they walk away.
I remain right there for a minute or two, trying to contemplate what had just happened. There are moments like this when my two worlds collide right in front of me. And for as much as I believe these situations seem bigger to me than what they actually are – due to an active storytelling mind – I can’t help but wonder if it’s literary fates that are causing this … telling me to keep writing. LOL
I eventually stand up and walk back to the coolers over in groceries to get a gallon of Turkey Hill Iced Tea. Some people take drugs or smoke pot or do other things like that to ease their nerves at times.
Me? I chug my favorite kidney stone causing beverage and begin to write a story outline in my mind.
The rest of the time I was at that Wal-Mart, I didn’t see them. Well … being as I never really saw what they looked like, I can’t say that for sure. But I can say I wasn’t looking for them from that point forward.
As I drove home, I thought about how things truly can be stranger than fiction. But there was another thought that trumped that one:
There are points in time when I struggle to find new story lines to turn into stories. I always try to write something that is new or at least slightly different than what I’ve written before.
But then I have experiences like at that Wal-Mart – when I pretended to be a statue while that Daddy-n-BabyGirl got dynamic with each other … just a short distance away from me. And I’m reminded: No, don’t reinvent the wheel. Just keep writing what you know and writing what you dream about.
Wanna hear another Stranger Than Fiction true story?
Continue on to:
Small World
The World Will Still Keep Turning
zorrodaddy.com 
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