Notes. From the Upper West Side. A Novel by Dan Wrench. Chapter 28.
The Normal Male Curiosity. See, that day I had to talk to the shrink pretty bad. It was my regular appointment day. I've been known to blow those off, but today I was desperate to talk in Carol Anne's loud mouth just made it worse.
So at 1 o'clock I was in Jessica's office blubbering for the 16th time about how my life was shattered beyond recognition when the wife announced she was going to spend the month of August chomping Plank in LA. And swear to God, when I finished puking self-pity into her ears and onto her desk and all over the rug she looked up at me and said, So how are you today Paul? Not so good. Like I just spent the last 10 minutes grunting and pointing.
That kind of made me angry at her so then she had to sit there while I told her how shitty it was that she obviously wasn't listening to me. Do you ever hear a word I say? I asked, What are you? You know what you're like?
You're like the shrink and port noise complaint who waits till the end and then says, So now if you make a begin? She just sat there and took it looking real concerned and saying she was sorry she didn't mean for it to come out that way until pretty soon I started to feel like I heal and sat down. And then we talked about what a sadist jr. is for calling up and rubbing my face in her infidelity every night under the pretense of wanting to speak to the boys.
Finally Jessica said, Are you working on the book? Yeah. Is it helping? Mostly.
I said, I think I could really get it published. You know, stick it to all of them. When did you last work on it? Last night, I'm working on it all the time.
It's an obsession now. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I didn't have the book to write. So what did you write about last night? I'm at the part where, remember I told you about the second day we were shooting Little Round Jewish hat at fighters and part made me go out to Long Island to pick up this big-ass internet pornography for Belinda?
Right. Belinda. Remind me again. She was the cinematographer.
No, the still photographer. You know, behind the scenes, Candice shots of Cassie Crew. If you've ever gone out to Little Round Jewish hat.com, you've seen her work. Do you think that has something to do with how you're feeling today?
Yeah, I guess. I mean, it's not the best memory. Would you like to tell me about it? So I started telling her the Belinda Hempstead story, but I kind of free associated the next thing I knew.
I was flat on my back on the couch like a caricature from a New Yorker cartoon. I started sobbing about how I didn't have a vagina to call my own and how. I was afraid I might never get another one. Ever.
And while I'm lying there with my heart hanging out like a monkey brain piñata, Jessica says, having a hard time meeting with him, I just looked at her. She looked back at me for a few seconds and then raised her right eyebrow as if to repose the question. Do you think? I asked.
I mean, I'm a stinking bartender who's been laid off from his evening job with two kids and a wife who's somebody's road fuck. I'm a real catch. You're a male model. And my last gig was modeling a metal finger up my nose.
Meantime, I'm watching on the news about Bobby Whispers and his damn tobacco that tastes like cunt. And I'm not a part of that either. I was this close to being a part of that phenomenon too, but I bailed because I couldn't stay focused. Focused on what I need to do.
I was just then sorting it out. What I need to do long term to attract ass. There isn't more to it. She asked, Are you sure you walked away from the tobacco project for the only reason was that you lost focus on sex?
Yeah, I'm pretty sure. I said, It's a tobacco that tastes like cunt when you smoke it. I just wasn't that interested in it for itself. Trust me, it was about the chicks.
I suppose if he made a tobacco that tasted like dick, I'd at least have to smoke some to settle the longstanding male curiosity. Straight male curiosity, I mean. About what? The taste of dick.
She said, Ben there was this long pause while she looked at me with this really exaggerated poker face. Let's go with that. You find you're curious about the taste of penis. Suddenly it sounded wrong.
Let's not make a federal case out of it. I'm no more curious than the next guy. Huh, she said, Another. Long.
Pause. What's with this huh? You're a therapist for Christ's sake. You never heard about male dick taste curiosity?
Well, she trailed off and sat back in her chair. She put a pen in her mouth. Huh, she said, Well, how far does this curiosity go with you? I don't remember seeing anything about it in Dr.
Sealth's notes or Dr. Koch's. That's because there's nothing to put down. I know it came up, but Koch told me not to worry about it because every man is curious about the taste of dick.
It's a Freudian thing. Dr. Koch said that. Yes.
What? You're saying he made it up? Because I'm telling you I'm not a queer. I don't actually want to suck on a dick.
I'm not even slightly gay. No, no. She said I'm not saying you are, but you know, sexual identity. She cut herself off and then said, No, no, no, it's nothing to worry about.
I was just thinking that there are a lot of theories about sexual identity that are a little straight-jacketing. You know, some people, and I think they're wrong about this. Some people want to say that if you ever think about a member of your own sex, then that makes you gay. And if you don't accept yourself as gay, then you're repressing.
And I really don't think that's true. At least it isn't necessary for you to believe that, Paul. What a relief. It seems, she said, Well, I believe I know what you're saying that some men want to taste other men's penises.
I don't want to taste another man's penis. I'm just, I took a breath. I just have the normal male curiosity about what dick tastes like. Have you ever tried to taste your own penis?
I can't bend over that far. She tapped her pen against her teeth. Alright, she said, I think you should consider the point of view that even if you did want to taste another man's penis, it wouldn't necessarily make you gay. It just makes you a man that wants to taste a penis.
And right now you're not even that. You're just a man who has a curiosity about it. I didn't feel mollified, consoled, cajoled, or whatever she was trying to make me feel. I was shocked, perturbed, and disnoid.
I mean, I thought this was a settled issue. Any of you chicks reading this may have to take my word for it, but hey guys, you know what I'm saying? Right? Notes from the Upper West Side Copyright 2013-2016 by Dan Reg.
Notes from the Upper West Side is a work of fiction. The people depicted in this work do not exist.