What is it with girls who freak out when they discover that their boyfriends masturbate? Look ladies, guys gotta touch themselves, just like girls gotta shop, and I don”t care if that statement is “un-P.C.,” or like “P.I.” or whatever.
Take my main squeeze (to protect her anonymity, we”ll call her “D-Town Dana”). I come home from a long, hard day of work at the parking garage to find my room in shambles. The desk is on its side, my socks and underwear are all over the bed, papers scattered all over the place, you know, that sort of thing, and there”s D-Town Dana crumpled in a heap in the corner, crying hysterically. And of course I don”t mean “hysterically” like “really funnily,” because there was nothing funny about it. I mean “hysterically” like “super nutso, like a crazy person.”
From time to time, D-Town Dana goes through my room when I”m at work, looking for evidence that I”m cheating on her, so the fact that my room was a disaster area was not what was bothering me. She”s kind of a jealous person that”s just her way and I”ve learned to accept it. But the fact that she was crying was definitely off-kilter, because another thing about Dana is that she has some real issues about showing emotion it was a problem at first, but I”ve learned to deal with this as well.
I feel like I”m making Dana out to seem like a total psycho, but she”s really no worse than the average female of her age group. She”s a great girl, and everybody has their funny little quirks, even me.
For one example, I derive pleasure from looking at certain kinds of erotica on the Internet. Actually, all the different kinds of erotica I like can be grouped under the erotic sub-genre of “scat.” If you don”t know what scat erotica is, e-mail me.
Anyway, so Dana was searching through my computer looking for evidence of some secret girlfriend (“I know she exists Benny, you bastard, you son of a bitch, I know she”s real, do you think I”m some kind of an idiot, why don”t you love me?!?”), and she came across the scat porn I have saved on my “C:/My Downloaded Files/BEN”S SECRET STUFF KEEP OUT” folder. As you can probably imagine, she was pretty broken up about it. I tried to explain to her that those picture files and movies are just fantasies that help me relax and clear my head, and no I wouldn”t like her to start doing the things that the dirty, dirty women in those movies do, and I”m perfectly happy with her, perfectly happy. Sheesh.
What can I say, weird things turn me on. Like at the parking garage last Thursday this elderly woman paid for a $1.90 parking charge with pennies, and she has her pennies rolled up into groups of 100 with tinfoil. Tinfoil, for some strange reason, turns me on, you know, like sexually. I think it”s the shininess, and the way it feels in my mouth. Anyway, this old bag is giving me two of these enormous balls of tinfoil with pennies inside of them, and like asking for change back in pennies and her tinfoil returned to her, and I”m trying to think and count and maintain some semblance of professionalism but I”m just totally lightheaded and shaky, and kind of queasy, but in a good way, and I don”t even know, you know? So that was a tough transaction to get through.
Where was I. Masturbation? No, that wasn”t it that was just an attention-grabbing opening line. Oh yeah, so just because I get off on excretory functions and aluminum foil, that doesn”t make me weird, I don”t think, because everybody has their own funny little quirks.
Last time I was at Sandusky, Ohio”s Cedar Point, just as another example, I was with D-Town Dana and her hot, hot friend “Val,” and we decided to go on the Millennium Force. You may have heard of it it”s only the tallest and fastest roller coaster in the free world, that”s all. So we”re a trio, the three of us, and D-Town and “Val” decide to sit together in the front car, leaving me to sit with a stranger, this unclean-looking middle-aged dude, in the second car. Well after I introduced myself to the guy and told him how scared I was to be on the Millennium Force and everything, he told me not to worry and put his arm around my shoulders. I”m not going to spell this all out for you, but it turned out that this creepy old guy was one of those altitudophiles. You know, he gets off on being dropped from high places? So on the drop, he squeezes me all tight and his eyes roll up in the back of his head and his mouth drops open and he starts in with this absolutely revolting moaning sound. At the end of the ride, I kid you not, he lit up a cigarette. Totally rancid.
I guess what I”m trying to say is that it takes all kinds of people to make this crazy world go “round, and as soon as people can accept this fact, and learn to live with everyone else”s differences, we will forget that the words “hatred” and “war” and “ignorance” ever existed.
So what if people have different opinions and ideologies? So what if some people find tinfoil sexually desirable and others get their kicks from hurtling towards the ground? What is the big deal? Do we not all bleed red? Do we not share a common goal, to be accepted and loved for who we are? We say we are a diverse campus, but true diversity doesn”t come from bringing together a bunch of people with different backgrounds who are unable to relate to those around them. It comes from open minds, and open hearts.
And by the way, the next time you”re at Cedar Point, wait the extra ten minutes to get the first car for the Millennium Force. It is so worth it.
Ben Goldstein can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
You got a problem with that?