Simply
Irresistible
By C. Haraway
The Robert Palmer video for “Addicted to Love”
changed my life. For those of you who have never seen this video, it features
Robert Palmer singing while a small army of women sway and play guitars
behind him. Each woman has her hair slicked back in the same style, making
all of the women look identical. Watching this video made me realize that,
beneath the different hairstyles and make-up jobs, all women are the same.
The idea that all women were the exact same person led me to form strange
views into my twenties that led to unhealthy sexual conduct. Or misconduct.
It’s that conduct that led me eventually to get tested for STDs.
Before going to the doctor to, I read up about the testing procedures
on the internet. It said most places did urine tests now. I felt quite
relieved.
While I waited for the doctor, I tried to decide how to present my penis.
If I exposed it limp, she’d think I had a tiny one. If it was erect,
she’d think I was a pervert. I decided it was best to go semi and
started thinking about only vaguely dirty thoughts. My biggest fear was
that my doctor would be a man.
When a woman entered the room, I felt very relived. She greeted me and
asked me some questions. Then she said, “Okay, now remove your pants.”
I could see her reaching up in a cabinet to retrieve a long, thin cotton
swab. Immediately, my penis retreated inside like a frightened turtle.
I wanted to ask her “Isn’t there a way just to do a urine
test?” But I knew it was futile. If there was a urine test, she
would have told me. This was how it was going to go.
Once I was stripped, she had me sit on the little doctors table and I
felt her gloved hands grip what was available of my petrified penis. “This
is going to hurt a little,” she said. I saw the stick in her hand
with a hard, thin cotton swab at the top. I closed my eyes as she inserted
it inside the place where nothing had ever entered before.
I can’t describe the pain. The feeling of a stick pressing through
the most tender region of a man’s genitals is quite unnerving. Not
only do they stick the swab way down there, they have to scrape in order
to get the cells.
Mind over matter, I kept telling myself. I knew if I moved at all, the
pain would only increase. It hurt so bad that I gave a quick jerk before
I felt her slide the stick out.
For the next week and a half, I could barely pee. I even woke up a couple
of times because the pain was so bad. The mental recollection of the feeling
only enhanced the physical pain. Even when she told me I tested negative
for all STDs, I wasn’t glad. I decided my penis was forever ruined
and I’d never want anyone to touch it ever again.
But the pain does go away eventually. Just as people with fillings in
their teeth never forget the pain of chewing on foil, I will never forget
this feeling. The pain is gone, but not the memory. Maybe there is an
easier way to do a urine test, but because of this procedure, I’ve
thought twice before deciding whether or not to use a condom. So maybe
it’s for the better. Who’s to say?
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