I pop my Occupy cherry, and though it hurt at first, it was very gentle, and I’m sure that it truly loves me.

So I’m here at Occupy Rapid City, reporting live. I’m supposed to be writing my story “Enabler”, but I’m not. I’m in the sun. The day is gorgeous.

My plan was to go to the coffee shop in the noble and ancient Alex Johnson Hotel. I am tired of the library. I was going to work on “Enabler” and drink cream soda, but I saw the protesters in the Main Street Square and found myself wandering over. Pretentious, over-priced coffee shops aren’t me anyway. What is this, the 90s? Am I Ross and Rachel and the gang?

No.

So I’m here looking at everyone, impressed with the diversity. There’s old and young, male and female. Well, not too many males. This is still South Dakota after all and all the boys are right-wing Republicans, or at least libertarians, who are just right-wing Republicans that smoke pot.

I notice the signs are not too witty. Perhaps they should hire me as sign writer: will work for beer. I did like one quite a bit (pictured), held aloft by the youngest protester. Hopefully she came up with it herself.

There’s not a whole lot of people, but there are some. There’s a very small group of counter-protesters across the street. Their signs all talk about Jesus, because, as everyone knows, Jesus totally supports the systematic concentration of wealth into the hands of the few. He is also all about using victim-blaming tactics on the poor.

Amen.

I shouldn’t talk, I guess. I’m just sitting here on a stone slab with my notebook and Dixon Ticonderoga pencil, writing this, and looking at the girl in the shorts. She’s quite lovely and in possession of a fine pair of milky white legs that, I think, would look smashing wrapped around my waist.

I estimate that there are around 40 people here altogether, about 30-10 to the females. This is not an ongoing protest, not a true Occupation. I only see them on the weekends and then only sporadically. This is the first time I’ve walked among them.

It’s a lovely day for a protest. In South Dakota, protesting is a weekend activity not unlike, say, golf or skiing. I’m glad they’re here, though. Besides, what else is there to do?

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