At Panera, which was normally our routine after rehearsals, sitting at a high-top table we over-worked, tired, broke, stressed-out college grown-ups trying to release the dull-drum schedule of work, school, and very little sleep – not necessarily in that order – talking and bull-shitting, would one-off each other.
Somehow the topic became a question of whether or not there could possibly be a limit to the size of a man’s junk. Is there such a thing as too big? Certainly there is such a thing as too small, right. But, too big?! Is there such a thing?
While the table started to discuss the very worthy question of how big is too big, I recalled I time a man got me drunk on red wine.
My wingman, a girl from work who had been hooking-up (do people still say hooking-up?) with a guy from Turkey (can anyone say Green Card – not to sound bitter, I just found it an unequal match) said, we’ll all go out and have a good time. Meeting them at his apartment I waited on his sofa while he took a phone call when I arrived. Most of the conversation took place with him staring at me while speaking Italian on the phone.
Let’s have a drink first, he said when he hung up his phone call.
Sure, what do you have?
He poured me a glass of red wine so sweet from the fruit that was soaking in it, I finished the glass rather quickly.
And then I finished another and another.
Oh, it was so good.
We never made it out that night.
Lying on his bed, tipsy, and wanting more…when I got to unzip his pants – Whoo, Lord have mercy!
It was a beautiful sight to behold. That man was hung like a baby elephant. Holy shit! That was a beautiful creation God made between his legs!
I still recall that moment with stammering wonderment. It’s a story to tell your grandchildren. Embarrassing them with the life you lived before them.
So, well equipped with that memory, I blurted out matter-of-factly, yes there can be such a thing as too big because my jaw does not come unhinged!
There was great laughter all around the table, but one person fell back with such laughter he fell to the floor. It took me a second to realize he was not only laughing so hard he wasn’t making any noise, but he was completely flat on the floor.
Almost immediately I started crying tears of laughter from the beautiful sight of him laughing. And in that moment an overpowering need took root. I just wanted to be next to him. Close to him. Just to be near him.
In the past I have used laughter as a weapon as a means to unarm people, so I can see people as they really are perhaps even as God meant them to be.
When a person is so gone in the moment from laughing they could pee themselves and not even care, or notice just to have one more breath, so they could laugh again – it is the most beautiful sight to me. There is a boundless wonder of the human soul and spirit to behold a much greater story to be told in that single moment.