Thursday, September 11, 2008
I did this when I was about five or six years old, but I didn't get the "beans" above the "frank". I simply zipped over my foreskin, and yes, I was terrified.
It was night time. I awoke with a need to pee. Instead of pj's I was wearing a pair of corduroys minus underwear. I must have thought* I'd be a pornstar someday (it WAS the '70's). After peeing, I zipped up in my dangerously groggy state and suddenly felt the wrath of many little metal teeth.
In a panic, I entreated my mommy to help me, but she ended up bringing the zipper past the foreskin and into the little eye, creating the lasting association that mommy plus penis equals excruciating pain. Thus began one of many trips to the emergency room.
I sat in the waiting room for what seemed to be several hours with a jacket over my crotch. Even at that young age I knew it was embarrassing to have any part of your junk on display, especially if it had suffered a self-inflicted injury. Adults were asking me with friendly concern what was wrong with me, and I bravely told them I was fine. Just doing research. Then they'd say, "Really? Then where's your notepad?" To which I replied, "Ah, very astute of you. I actually have a photographic memory. But to answer your question, it's probably up your ass."
Finally, the doctor saw me, and after much prodding and discomfort - including shooting novocaine into the area (just call me numb nuts) and cutting my pants off of me to leave nothing but a little circle of corduroy - he was able to remove the zipper. I remember quite vividly the sight of a single drop of blood coming out of a place from which blood should never flow.
And maybe now you'll understand when I say the scene from "There's Something About Mary" shown above is pretty fuckin' far from funny.**
*Notice I did not write "must of thought". Because I am not an idiot.
**Yes, that is an homage to Marcellus from "Pulp Fiction", post-rape.