Rx…xxx

Since we’ve found out that my man purse is about to be unzipped and all contents emptied out (ie, my one remaining testicle removed due to the unwanted cancerous growth dwelling on it like the weird blond german junkie that’s been living on the couch in front of my neighbor’s house for the last week) the missus and I have been working tirelessly on sperm freezing for the last few weeks. The only downside is that now I don’t have any room for my ice trays or TV dinners and my refrigerator is sort of starting to smell funny.

INTERIOR – CRYO BANK – DAY

We show up to the cryo-bank to make a “deposit” and we’re (I’m) so hoping to see THIS:

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or THIS:

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INSTEAD, what we get……is THIS:

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and THIS:
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They ask us some questions, get the initial paperwork done. Bill Cosby says, “Is the address on your license your CURRENT address?”

And I say, “No – I didn’t drive THAT far!”

She looks at me sideways and i say, “………..It’s a South Dakota license.”

She looks back at it and laughs WAY HARDER than is deemed even remotely necessary. She then repeats her folly to her coworker in a fit of giggles.

I know I described the person as “Bill Cosby” and then as “she” – but trust me when I say both descriptors are correct.

Bill opens the door and brings us to “The Back”. She hands me a small cup – sort of the ATM deposit envelope, if you will – and then says, “Choose any door on your right”. They all look the same except for room four. Room four has wallpaper……and printed on the wallpaper is naked women and close up shots of butts and boobs.

I choose the room I’m standing in front of.

Bill Cosby hands me a disc. I look at it – an adult DVD called “Bangin’ at the Cabo Cabana”. I say “thank you”. I pause for effect. I say, “This should be romantic”.

She doesn’t laugh.

How do you picture these rooms where you excavate for “the good stuff”. Mood lighting? Dark walls?……maybe a hue reminiscent of maroon? Candles – black AND white? Votives? Incense?

Maybe……..a recliner? Would you sit on the recliner if there was one there?

Did you picture this?

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How about a light dimmer, at the very least? I get “Bangin’ at the Cabo Cabana” and a stack of porno – seen above in Exhibit “Thumbs Up”. I mean, it’s SOMETHING, but a little ambiance goes a long way.

We pop in “Bangin” – more to just check out as a novelty with no real plans of watching it (PLEASE DON’T THINK WE’RE PERVERTS!!!!!)

The DVD starts on the little flat screen television. There are headphones but I just turn the volume down….to zero. I don’t like being confined by a cable and I don’t want Cosby walkin’ by thinking I’m a pervert.

ON THE SCREEN:

Baby blocks DROP from the sky and twist around until the words “BABY DOLL PICTURES” is spelled out in front of us. No joke.

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Weird.

From the baby-like logo it pretty much wastes no time getting down to biznus. “Bangin’ at the Cabo Cabana” has CERTAINLY earned it’s title from frame 1.

We kill the movie because it’s sort of breaking the “mood” – the mood that is like being locked in the closet of a dentist’s office without pants on. PLUS, I’m really concerned that if we watch it all the way to the end, the guy, rather than choosing to go with the “traditional” adult ending, will just decide to neatly collect his “product” in a little plastic vial and then set it on a nearby counter and I think if i actually witnessed that, it would be game over for me.

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The place is small enough that you can hear Bill Cosby and Mimi from The Drew Carey Show talking down the hallway. Mimi has a bad cough, full of phlegm. Bill Cosby does most of the talking and laughing. People walk by our door with heavy, echoey footsteps. For a moment two people actually stop to chat about plans after work outside my door…..my room. I feel really out of place, a little awkward, afraid to be caught, even though I’M paying THEM to be HERE doing THIS.

It’s a strange paradigm.

I’m not really going to get into the logistics of the deposit itself for obvious reasons, but I will say this…….the “deposit envelope”……..the little jar…….after four visits I’m STILL not sure of the best way to get the “money” from my “wallet” into the “envelope”.

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Once you’re…….done……..you have to walk through this place, carrying your “envelope” with you, proclaiming to anyone that sees you, “How are you? Why yes, I AM carrying around a jar of SPERM – FRESH FROM THE TUBE! I’d love to stay and chat but I really must be getting off to work.”

You drop the goods off behind some sliding glass and ring a bell. DING – EVERYONE THIS YOUNG MAN HAS COMPLETED HIS JACK OFF! CONGRATULATIONS, SIR!

I turn to leave and ALMOST make it back to the exit when a small Asian woman in a radioactive suit pops her head out from the sliding glass door and says in a Darth Vadery voice, “Excuse me…..sir……(all these dots are where Darth is doing his heavy breathing)…..i need to ask you……..a few questions……”

I come back over to Darth Quan and, with my canned specimen resting next to her writing hand, she says, “How long……have you been…….absent…..?”

Certainly she MUST mean ‘abSTInent’? CERTAINLY the LAB TECH JEDI at the CRYO-BANK knows the difference.

She says, “Did you get it all……….in the cup………?

I want to tell her that most of it went on the floor because of their stupid little cup technology (even though it didn’t). I want to tell her it’s on the TV and all over the magazines and on the headphones. I feel like I should say SOMETHING, but nothing comes to me.

I nod and say, “yes, ma’am. It was a clean escape.”

At the front desk they charge me a hundred bucks, which I don’t really understand since mostly I did all the work. The lady hands me the credit card paper and a pen and says she needs my signature.

I say, “Ah yes, the ol’ John HandCOCK, huh?”

Bill Cosby certainly thought THAT one was funny – and I don’t blame him / her.

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