It's Bad When a Man's Privates Become a Public Nuisance

It's a sensitive issue in the most literal way imaginable. So sensitive, in fact, that I rarely hear other men talking about it. Of course, it's entirely possible that I just have the wrong friends, or that I simply don't talk with that many people to begin with.

But I must say, among those men I do speak with, the subject of our privates rarely comes up?and if it does, it's always hesitantly, in hushed tones, the conversation suddenly filled with verbal pauses and strained euphemisms. But dammit, somebody's got to get this problem out in the open?and if nobody else will, then I guess I'll have to.

See, ummm...there's this...problem that men have. I?I think probably all, um, creatures?you know?who are male?and...um...who have, um, external ummm...organs, you know. I think they might possibly have this...problem, too.

Well, it's like this. There's a fundamental structural flaw, I think you'd call it, because they, um...see...they...have this, um, tendency to...you know...get in the way. Now, I understand the basic idea?circulating air and all is supposed to be good for...you know, procreating. Creating future generations and all that sort of thing. But to get that circulating air effect, you...you need to sort of be right out there. And by being right out there, see, well, sometimes, just...just walking alone will...will cause...problems. Just walking down the street. And one of my cats? The female? I don't know if her being female has anything to do with it?well, I generally sit cross-legged when I'm typing at home, or sitting at the kitchen table, or much of anywhere. I don't know why?I just do, is all. And she has this tendency, see, to, well, do a lot of...hopping. And stomping. And?worst of all?kneading in that, um, general vicinity. You know what I'm talking about. And there's no place to hide! I mean, I suspect she knows what she's doing?but there's just nothing I can do to protect myself. Morgan suggested wearing a cup, and that might help?but to be honest, I've never really been sure how to work those things.

And it's not just the cat, either. I mentioned walking, right? Earlier? So sometimes I'll just be walking to the bank, see, or the grocery store, and suddenly yow! Right out of nowhere, pinched like nobody's business. Feels like a long sharpened iron pike being drilled slowly through my guts. That's what it feels like. To me at least.

And you can forget all about crossing your legs. I mean, y'know, I still do it?but not without a certain amount of trepidation each time. Because you never know when it's going to happen. When something's...you know...sort of misplaced or whatever. And Christ, if there are other people in the office, or the train or?or wherever you are, you can't just stick a hand down there to readjust things?that's where lawsuits come from.

It's just really been bugging me lately. It's been a chronic problem, you might say. Every couple days and yow! Y'know? Then it follows you around for a day or two! There's just no way to sit or walk or do anything that's comfortable.

I'm not saying?I should get this out of the way here, too?I'm not making any, y'know, claims about anything...if?if you know what I mean. Far from it. I just think?it's that structural thing, like I said?that it's something everyone?well, y'know?everyone who has...well...to worry about this sort of thing, I guess... It's something we all run into, at some time.

But nobody says anything about it.

Sure, when you see it in the movies, it's funny as hell?"Arrrr! My groiiinnn!" That sort of thing. Makes me laugh still. But even in the movies?none that I've seen at least?maybe somebody's done something with it?but they don't tell you how often it can happen if you, y'know, just cross your damn legs. Really goddamn frustrating.

For a while, see, I thought it was something I could blame on my urologist. 'Cause back when I got myself fixed, what, 10 years ago or so? he put in these four stainless-steel surgical staples to keep, umm...you know...various what you'd call tubes apart and closed to prevent, um...accidental....something. Until things stopped doing what they do naturally. But long after that stopped?the possibility, I mean, without another operation?the staples are still in there, so far as I'm aware, you know? They aren't like those dissolving stitches. I mean, it's not like I set off metal detectors or anything?yeah, try explaining that one to a security guard?but sometimes I do become aware of them, just sort of floating around in there. I don't think they can get rusty or anything...but who the hell knows? I sure haven't seen them in a decade.

So anyway, that's what I thought it was at first?that I was sitting on these staples in a funny way. Before I?I hit upon this whole "structural" answer. Which leads me to the conclusion that external...well, you know, like I've been saying?organs?are just a bad idea all around. I mean?not all mammals have them, right? Some just sort of...well...appear, I guess, when they're needed. And then they retract again.

But maybe that's only the case with those animals?like polar bears, maybe?or pandas?that don't procreate very often, or well...

Hell, let's just say I don't even wear boxers, okay? And it's still a problem! Every couple?well, more like a couple times a week?things just sort of go, y'know, bloomp! And again, you're in the office, or walking down the street, there's not a thing you can do. Bloomp! And that's it for a while. Teetering right there, tangled in the underpants, on the verge of yow! Damn, huh?

I was explaining all of this to Morgan last weekend?and believe you me, she hears me complain about this a lot. This time, I dunno?maybe I seemed more...adamant or something. But then half an hour after I hung up the phone, it rang again.

"I just have to ask," she said. "You aren't planning on...doing anything about the problem are you? I mean, I know how handy you can be with a knife."

That surprised me. And what surprised me more was the fact that the idea, despite all my complaining, and despite my, um, history, had never occurred to me.

Which I suppose is a good thing. Still leaves me with that problem, though.

So a couple days later, we were at a bar. And, I dunno?maybe I had a close call or something, but the topic came up again. And now, I don't know if we were talking loud enough?though I doubt that?for the people at the next table to hear us, or anything, but then the next thing you know, they're sort of talking about the same thing. Well, I guess it was a little different. One of the guys there?at the other table?said that he knew a guy in high school, who seemed perfectly normal and everything, until they were in, you know, gym class together.

(For the record, I successfully avoided showering after gym class for my entire public school career.)

Anyway, so this guy at the other table, he says that there was this kid. And everything was normal about the kid...well, um...down there, I guess...except for (ahem) the skin. The skin, which apparently stretched all the way down to his knees. His knees, for godsakes! What kind of weird mistake did he make along the way? "Hey, look at this!" right? Makes me cringe.

And this guy says, "Can you imagine trying to sleep with that thing flopping around?"

That made me cringe some more. Because, I'll tell you, that's another damn problem?sleeping! 'Cause sometimes? Sometimes all you have to do is roll over wrong, and there you are again! Not a goddamn thing to do about it anymore except go and take some aspirin and accept the fact that you're going to be up for the rest of the night, probably.

I dunno. Maybe I should try tape or something.

Jesus, just thinking about it makes me feel...hell, I don't know..."protective" is the wrong word. Whatever it is, the first impulse is to, y'know?cross your legs. You know what I'm talking about. But then that could just be the worst thing in the world to do!

All I hope is that I don't end up being one of those guys who sits on the subway with his legs real far apart. Now those guys creep the hell out of me! Then again, who knows? Maybe they know what I'm talking about.

There. I said it. And I feel better for having done so.