Editor's Note: The first thing I sold on Etsy was the necklace made of dollhouse miniature junk food. Someone found it by searching for "Cheeto Necklace."
So I made a Cheeto necklace, and then I took him with me on the March to Support Planned Parenthood. This is his account of the events of the day.
Hello. I am a Cheeto. My Maker took me to the Support Planned Parenthood march last Saturday.
(That's a bad photo of me. It makes me look puffy.)
I was not the only accessory at the March. There was a woman with a labia hat:
... AND a woman with a labia breastplate:
"Look like a Labia!" my Maker demanded, and Labia woman made this face. As we walked away, we heard her explain to her friends that she wanted to look nervous, because "That's where all the nerve endings are."
I really wish I were a Labia Necklace, not a Cheeto Necklace, but this is how my Maker made me.
So, the march path took us from The Grove neighborhood, past the Planned Parenthood offices, then back to the Grove again. Of course, I didn't march, I'm a Cheeto, I just dangled on my cord and observed. There was a lot of chanting about our bodies and our rights and our streets (whose streets?) our streets.
However, when we neared the Planned Parenthood office everyone stopped chanting, including my Maker and her cohort, who was some man with a cane named Gary. The man, that is, I don't know what the cane was named, we didn't talk. The organizers told us we had to be completely silent as we walked past the center, because there were some people there who might want to argue with us.
I tell you, she had those people all wrong. They were SO NICE. They had signs that said "LIFE," and they took videos and photos of us. I felt like a celebrity. Really, they were so sweet. They said they would pray for us, and they asked about our mothers, and said God loved us. Really, really nice people. Even I could feel the love, and I'm a Cheeto. I would have been glad to talk to them instead of the silent treatment, unlike the Maker's Cohort, who seemed disappointed he couldn't wield his cane in self-defense.
On the way back to The Grove, a block before the MetroLink light rail tracks, the gutter got really rough. The Maker concentrated on keeping her footing, but somehow she still tripped and came down hard on the edge of the street.
I flew out of my cord and landed on the grass. I could only lie there helplessly as several people asked if she was okay. She checked to be sure her Ray Bans were okay before she answered, because accessories are people too. I was only slightly hurt.
She looked fine, except for the Ray Ban shaped scrape on her face. Still, she was a little dazed, because she started to just walk away. Luckily, a petite brunette snatched me up off the ground and ran me to my Maker with, "Is this your Cheeto?"
I will never forget the look on Her face. "Oh!" she cried out, "It is My Cheeto! I would be SO SAD if I'd lost that! Thank you!" and she hugged the petite woman. That made me feel special.
Then, of course, we were almost crushed by the MetroLink. We were about twenty people back, waiting at the train crossing. The all-clear bell rang, we all moved forward, then suddenly the twenty people before us reversed course and ran back to where we were, so we had to backpedal too. Turned out there was another train coming the other way. We got through after the next all-clear, but I don't know how they got all 7,000 people through before the next train.
When we returned to The Grove I got even more attention. A professional photographer took my picture, and several people asked if I was a real Cheeto (No, but I was sculpted after a live model) and if I was a statement (Yes, but a subtle one).
It looks now like the Maker will be making me a sibling, with a secure cord that goes through instead of wrapping around. This new one is going to have a face as well, because She says today's political environment doesn't call for subtlety.