Honest Conversation Is Overrated
Actual Human Interactions Witnessed Or Overheard
In Twentieth And Twenty-First Century America
In Twentieth And Twenty-First Century America
The last couple of Thanksgivings, a bunch of my poet friends and I have gotten together to have a family-free holiday. We have lots of alcohol, tell lots of raunchy stories, and eat a lot of amazing food. This year, my former roommate, and former romantic foil, Ben joined in. The favorite story of the day was about the Mr. Hot Positive Load. We, in fact, referred to Thanksgiving as Hot Positive Loads Of Food Day. I was almost thankful that I had fucked Mr. Hot Positive, as he'd given me a great story. He had also, however, bruised my ribs while riding me. I thought that was his final gift to me. I was wrong.
The day after Thanksgiving, I was preparing to take a piss when I saw a thick yellowish liquid on the head of my cock. Now, after nearly a decade of very carefully protected sex with many, many people, I've never had an STD, but I knew immediately that I had one then. So I entered my symptom online and took an educated guess that I had gonorrhea. I made an appointment at an STD clinic, and sent off an e-mail to Mr. Hot Positive's Myspace Profile. It said "Hey. You should e-mail me. There's something we need to talk about before you sleep with anyone else."
He responded by defriending me. So I left a comment for him. "Thanks for the STD, jerkface. Get tested before you give it to someone else."
How was I supposed to know his mom and his sister read his MySpace page?
Oh, right, he'd told me before we met.
He replied with "I don't have any STDs. Why are you being such an asshole?"
Now, I had only had sex with two people during a two week stretch. Mr. Breedme and Mr. HotPositiveLoad. I had inserted my penis (fully condomed) into Mr. Breedme for a couple of minutes, and then made him leave. Also, Mr. Breedme said he hadn't gotten laid in years, and given his appearance and self-esteem, I believe him. Mr. HotPositiveLoad is a big slut (I realize this is the proverbial pot calling the proverbial kettle Cookware American) who likes to have men pee in him. We had fucked and whatnot for hours, and while I had been very careful with condoms, there had been some non-latexed oral that would lead me to believe he, and not Mr. Breedme was the one that gave me The Applause. But if I'm wrong, then Mr. Breedme gave me The Applause, and I probably passed it along to Mr. HotPositiveLoad. Either way, he had gonorrhea.
By the time I write out my kindlier than it should be e-mail, I discovered he had me blocked, changed his MySpace profile to private, changed his name, gotten rid of his picture, and changed his age and location.
I'm pretty sure that doesn't change the fact that he had The Applause.
Around about this time, my penis started to hurt. I already had an appointment at the clinic for the next day, so I resigned myself to the fact that there was nothing I could do. I made it a point to not pee very much, as the idea of having hot lava shoot out of my cock has never been very appealing to me.
Ben called. He was running a show at his college, and his host had bailed. He wondered if I could come host the event. Seeing as I had a show there myself the next week, I agreed. I wrapped some Kleenex around my cock, and shuffled off to the train. An hour and a half later, I reached my destination (late), and Ben picked me up. We drove about 100 MPH all the way to the show (about another hour of travel), where I waddled into the lecture room. In order to host, I had to walk up and down the stairs of the lecture hall every five minutes or so. My ribs were bruised. My cock was ON FIRE. The Kleenex had shifted to somewhere around my kneecaps, and my penis, dripping hot lava out of it, was now scraping against my jeans.
The show lasted about two hours. So I missed the last train home. Meaning, I would not be able to make it back to the city in time for my appointment.
I was not very happy.
Ben got on the phone to his sister, who is a doctor. The conversation that I heard went something like, "Well, it's my friend Safey. He's got The Applause. Uh huh. Well, he's not going to make it in for his appointment at the clinic, which means he's not going to get any medication for at least another couple of days, and I was wondering if you could prescribe me the drugs, and I could pick them up first thing tomorrow, and give them to him. Well, it's kind of my fault he isn't going to make it to the clinic. I know I'm not supposed to ask you about drugs, and I normally wouldn't, but do they really think someone is going to recreationally take antibiotics? Thanks. Thanks. No, really. I'm sure he appreciates it."
Ben went to sleep a bit later, while I kept waddling back and forth to the bathroom to survey the damage. I may
First thing the next morning, we took a trip to the pharmacy, where Ben picked up the prescription, while I waited in the car. "You know that the lady inside totally thinks I'm the one with The Applause." He said, fluffing his hair at me.
I did. And it amused me.
I took the pills immediately, thanking any deity in the vicinity that, if I had to have an STD, it, at least, was one that you can knock out with one dose of pills, and not have any sort of recurring rash or quickened death.
Ben then drove me, and a few of his friends to the restaurant/poetry venue where I work. I was dreading going up and down the stairs all night, carrying plates of food; and was overjoyed to discover that the kitchen was closed, and I would still get paid, even though all I would have to do was deliver the occasional drink from the bar to one of the nearby tables.
I still decided that this was a sign that I shouldn't be meeting strangers for sex via The Internet anymore. So I was pleased to receive an e-mail from Duke, a couple of days after a doctor confirmed I was "cleared up". After all, I'd fucked Duke once already, so he was hardly a stranger. Also, I hadn't even been able to masturbate while I had The Applause, as even brushing the tip of my ON FIRE cock against a sheet caused incredible pain. I could tell by the way he kissed me when I got to his house that we were going to have loads of sex to make up for the last couple of weeks. But while they would certainly be hot loads, and I hoped they'd be positive loads, I was hoping they wouldn't be hot positive loads. Near as I can tell, they weren't.
Also, the next week I had my show at the college, and it went very well. My ribs felt a lot better, and I was definitely Applause free (though many people clapped during my show). I had Ben call his sister and let her know how much I appreciated what she did, and that I think of her every time I pee, and it doesn't hurt. I hope she understands that's supposed to be a compliment. also have put a voodoo hex or two on Mr. HotPositiveLoad. I barely got any sleep, as the pain was...and the gross was...and ewww.