Flashin' Ain't Easy

It's not easy being a flasher. It's not hard, either, but I can think of a few things that are easier. Not being a flasher, for instance. That's much easier.

Just the sheer fact of showing your bits to people can be intimidating, so flashers have that elevated stress level. And because of the nature of the work, flashing is a hand-to-mouth profession. You never know where your next pay cheque or restraining order is coming from.

We've tried to counteract these problems with industrial relations changes but nothing seems to work.We wanted to unionise and join with the Nudist Union but they didn't have any pockets to put the membership cards in and we didn't want to carry them where they did. So that failed. Plus, because flashing is a solitary, even lonely, occupation, a lot of flashers are too shy to speak up at meetings. They'll just stand on their chair, flashing. They just don't know when it's knock off time. Dedicated to the work, in a sense. Annoying in another sense (most of them).

But that's just indicative of the philosophical differences in the various schools of flashing. Some of the old school guys think, hey, why not just flash every ten seconds, even in an important meeting? The more progressive ones limit themselves to one or two flashes per meeting, at the maximum. It's a generational thing.

Still, despite all this, don't let anyone tell you is that flashing is all that hard. Look, let's not fool ourselves: it's considerably easier than making an honest dollar. Sure, most of the money comes from people just paying you to stop flashing, but aren't most jobs like that? I worked at a movie theatre once and they gave me a big cheque to stop flashing myself to the customers and never to come back to work. I figured, why not cut out the middle man, and just get paid to stop flashing in the first place?

As flashers there are some ground rules that apply, no matter what generation you're from. First of all, never flash someone walking a dog. Have you ever seen a dog go for a hot dog? The very best that can happen is that it humps your leg, which cramps your style and frankly is looked down upon in the flasher community. Even the few lady flashers don't do it.

Another rule is don't flash children. What's the point? They don't have any money. However, you can elicit money from their parents with the threat of flashing. This is where the now-famous 'flasher eyebrow' comes from.

Invented by, I'm proud to say, my grandfather, the flasher eyebrow is the complicated raising of the eyebrow that says in no uncertain terms that 'I am going to flash your child, unless you give me money'. My family would be much richer today if grandpa had patented it. That's another common problem with flashers; they're no good with money. Just last week I heard the heartbreaking story of an old lady flasher who was being evicted because she hadn't saved up enough in her prime. Bought too many rhinstone studded trench coats and so on. And now she's back on the street. She even started flashing people with dogs. She's so old and decrepit that now people don't pay her to stop, they just punch her in the face and steal her handbag. People can be cruel, if you let them. I'm not sure why we passed that law.

Proper flasher attire is matter of contention in the community. The traditionalist will tell you that a trenchcoat is the only appropriate article of clothing a self-respecting flasher can wear. But there is a younger, more 21st century savvy generation of flashers who will wear anything from mu-mus to velcro stripper pants. My view on the matter errs on the side of conservatism (my grandfather never had to resort to velcro to provide for his family) but I give my blessing to anyone furthering the ideas and practices of flashing.

I bet you didn't know that the first man on the moon was a flasher. Well, not the actual moon, but the first man on the moon-shaped piece of cheese in the Cheesy Barn on Cheese St, Cheesetown (where our national headquarters are). The first man on the cheese, really. But he's a local hero in the flasher community. They call him the Big Cheese, or Moonman.'Hey Moonman!' someone will say. 'It's Big Cheese, you idiot!' another will say.'Aw, shut your face, it's Moonman,' will come the reply. Then they'll start flashing eachother until one or the other gives up. A flash off, I guess.

I have to admit that the art of flashing does seem to be dying out, partly because of fatal flash offs and partly just because the money is so bad. A two-dollar note to 'please leave us alone' doesn't go as far as it used to. It doesn't go anywhere, since they don't exist anymore.

If we don't recruit new flashers to the movement, people will start being able to just walk about the streets without being flashed at. And wouldn't that be a tragedy? Not for them, maybe. But for us, the flashers, of course it is. Why would you even ask that?

In conclusion, please support your local flashers. Pay us to stop flashing or pay us to flash you. Whatever. Just pay us. It's not easy being a flasher. Even though it sort of is.