Thirteen Solid Inches

17 04 2008

Some guys go out of their way to impress the ladies with the size–real or otherwise–of their packages. I’ve heard of all manner of crazy shit–toilet paper, socks, fruits and vegetables, even a wad of penis-shaped duct tape–being stuffed down the trousers of desperate men. Not me, though; I’m in a fully committed relationship (read: I no longer give a shit about random women’s opinions). However, I did inadvertently impress an office full of middle-aged ladies today with what they thought was my hideously engorged Vagina Ruiner 3000.

Sometimes at work I have to go rooting around in dark, cramped places (oh, grow up), and for those times, I need a flashlight. Seriously, stop laughing. Anyway, after I finished searching for some long-lost but expensive material, I went to alert the requestor in his office. Upon my arrival, I found not the man I was looking for, but about a dozen not unattractive older ladies who were watching some sort of Powerpoint presentation. The room was semi-dark, and I had an invoice sheet to leave on the guy’s desk, so I flipped on the light.

As I made my way across the room to the desk, I noticed the simultaneous turning of twelve pre-menopausal heads, all studiously aimed at my “crotchal” region. I laid the invoice on the desk, and turned to leave after bidding everyone farewell and apologizing for the intrusion. My exit-walk was followed with the same unsettling interest.

Out in the hall, I realized that the flashlight in my pocket–a massive MagLite–created the illusion of a monstrous dong snaking down the inside of my leg. My t-shirt covered the exposed lens and attendant tell-tale bulge, so God only knows what those poor ladies were thinking after I left. I have enough problems with women (Fried Chicken Girl, for one) at work, anyway, without having to deal with a gaggle of old crones who think I can prop myself up at a forty-five degree angle without using my hands.

If any of them are reading this–IT WAS ONLY A FLASHLIGHT!

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