F.Y.T.

Every year, hundreds of thousands of people come to town for Bikes, Blues and BBQ. The amount of blues music at the rally seems to be negligible, though I concede I may not have been looking in the right places. I suppose there is a slight uptick in the amount of BBQ food available, but given that BBQ food is readily available in this region of the country year round to begin with, there’s not much novelty there. What the rally fails to deliver in blues and BBQ food, it more than makes up for in bikes. BBB organizers claim it’s the second largest bike rally, behind only Sturgis.

I have nothing wrong with bikers, per se. Hey, we all have hobbies. I could just do without the noise.

Here’s the way I look at it. There is about thirty or so feet between my front door and my street. If you past my house and your vehicle is so loud that I can’t hear my television even though all of my windows are closed, your vehicle is too loud. Maybe you’re experiencing engine problems and you can’t quite afford to have it fixed. Okay, I can accept that.

If your vehicle is that loud on purpose, then you’re being intentionally disruptive to others. And if you’re being continuously disruptive to others then you’re being an asshole. I’m sorry, there’s no other way around this. You’re a loud, obnoxious asshole and I’m not at all impressed with how loud you are.

What I’m basically saying is that every year, for one weekend in late September/early October, assholes flood my town.

It’s not all bad, I guess. I understand local charities pull in a lot of contributions as a result of the rally. Also, I’d imagine the flood of people is good for some local businesses. It brings in tax money, which is also good. Maybe if it was a rally of quiet bikes, I’d feel better about everything.

Since this was all happening within walking distance of our house, Lilith thought we should go to enjoy the spectacle with a few friends. She knew I don’t handle crowds very well. Luckily, she figured out an easy solution for this. If I have a few drinks beforehand, I’m usually fine.

I got drunk and headed out. It was loud and overcrowded, but I had a way higher tolerance to all of that because at least I was drunk. It was interestingish. Some of the bikes were beautifully detailed, which is cool if you’re into that sort of thing. (I am not.)

We made ourselves a game: peruse the vendors and find the worst thing.

Granted, that’s subjective. But there are things one generally could expect to find available at a place like this. 

• Anything defending the 2nd Amendment, or at least the part of the 2nd Amendment that doesn’t mention a well-maintained militia.
• Anything anti-Obama, including, but not limited to:
  • A plea for him to return to Kenya.
  • Pointing out that his middle name is the same as a former dictator’s last name, but ignoring the fact he was named after his father, who was born said dictator.
• Anything with the Confederate flag, sometimes stating that displaying an emblem of anti-American open rebellion somehow made you a patriotic American.

Hey, I’m a Freedom of Speech guy. You’re allowed to share your opinion however you like. And I’m allowed to mentally map out the many holes in your logic. I say this with full knowledge that not everyone has to agree with me.

It turned out the worst thing being offered up for sale wasn’t political. At least not completely; really, you can bring anything back to politics. I have no way of introducing such an item, so I’m just going to go ahead and post it.

The only thing I felt I could do was take a photo because … so many reasons. I didn’t want to forget it (as if I could). I didn’t know if I’d be able to properly describe it to others. I also thought if someone were to describe this to me, I probably wouldn’t believe them. Why would something like this exist? Who would want to be seen in public wearing a garment with these words on them?

After some light Internet research, I’ve discovered that Stripped Down Addiction is a thing. The logo with the bikini-clad woman is easily found on Google Images. But it looked like someone, I’m thinking not affiliated with Stripped Down Addiction, ironed on the delightful slogan to a Stripped Down Addiction vest/jacket/whatever.

So we agreed: "Fuck your tits…" was the worst thing, right?

Right! We’ve even decided to adopt it in our lexicon. If my friend is giving me a hard time, instead of saying, "Shut up," I simply say "F.Y.T." The rest of the phrase is implied, though it should be noted that a response of actually showing said part is in no way expected.

It turns out that we were not referring to the same item. My friend took a photo of something that had the same slogan (I keep referring to it as a slogan for lack of a better word) but it’s WAAAAAY worse. I hadn’t seen it until she posted it on Facebook.

Holy shit, this is upsetting.

I may be reading into things a bit (because that’s what I do) but the first design is almost playful when compared to the second design.

In the first design, maybe that was something being said to the woman in a bikini jokingly by an unseen lover. She’s looking back, coyly replying "Oh, you. It’s going to take more than that to charm me." And the speaker then proceeds to pursue the proper avenues necessary to get to the point where she would willingly show the speaker the area requested. Maybe not the most romantic scene, but no one was forced to do anything.

The tone in the second one is much different. I’m going to go ahead and use the word "rapey." When paired up with an image of a man — resembling Pacino’s Scarface, for some reason — with large muscles flashing a pile of cash, this comes off as an order. You will show me. I may come off as overly sensitive, but I see no other way of interpreting this design.

Of course, the picture I painted with the first design is one of the best case scenarios, but the second design doesn’t seem to have a best case scenario. It’s all bad.

I’m just wondering what kind of person would throw down money and be seen wearing this in public. That person sounds just awful.