A letter to the editor of the Roanoke Times about gays in the military reminded me of an incident that took place several years ago, when I was young and stupid. For having consumed great quantities of alcoholic refreshments at premium prices on a regular basis.
I was sitting at the bar one night in a dump outside Detroit with a couple of friends, where I'd been downing bourbon at a pretty steady clip (the night was warm, the bourbon on ice was cold, the rest is fond memory; fuzzy but fond).
At some point, after a few hours of fun and relaxation, I needed to urinate.
So off to the (really awful, disease-infested) restroom I went.
When I came back to the bar, I looked at the two guys sitting there and said, with eyes popping open,
"Hey, you're not going to believe what just happened in the men's room."
"What?" they asked in unison, with a certain amount of trepidation.
I said, "You know how, when you're standing at the urinal sometimes and there's someone at the next urinal beside you, you raise up on the balls of your feet and peek over the side to see how big his penis is?"
They stared.
"What?"
"You know what I'm talking about. When you're sometimes standing at the urinal and there's someone standing at the urinal next to you, you raise up on the balls of your feet and peek over the side to see how big his penis is. Don't tell me you guys never do that."
Silent disbelief.
"So I peeked over the rim of the urinal next to mine, where a black guy was taking a squirt, to see how big his penis was, and - to my total surprise - happened to notice it was tattooed."
"What?! You're making that up!"
"No. I swear, he had tattooed on his penis a woman's name."
"It said, 'WENDY.'"
"Wendy?"
"Yeah! The entire length of his penis!"
No."
"Yeah! So I asked this fella, who had dreadlocks going in all directions, 'Sorry to interrupt you at a time like this but I'm curious. I notice that you have the name WENDY tattooed on your penis. What's that all about?'"
And in my best Jamaican accent I tossed out the punchline:
"He looked at me rather oddly ... then replied, 'Oh, no, mon. That doesn't say Wendy. That's ...
... WELCOME TO JAMAICA. HAVE A NICE DAY.'"
They hit the floor.
I ordered another round.
True story. I don't make things up for the weblog. Ever. Well ...
