True Confessions

A friend recently related to me how once, when he was a much younger punk in school, participated it in some petty violence against another kid. He was remorseful now, which is good, and thankful that his younger self didn't sabotage the future his current self is enjoying now.

It got me thinking, though, about bad things I've done to other people. I can think of three things that qualify, and someone else will have to tell me if they're as bad as roughing up another kid. Here's the first:

One time, at band camp, I was working as a traveling consultant (meaning I'd fly out of town every Monday morning and fly home on Thursday night). Every so often the big national boss would blow through town which meant the big local boss had to entertain him. Put another way, a number of us were coerced into carpooling to the area "gentleman's clubs."

I've never been a strip club guy. I don't drink, smoke cigars, or ogle women with questionable morals publicly. I don't think the idea of "stripping" is inherently bad, I think it's too bad that there are young ladies out there who choose to do it. Otherwise, consenting adults and all that.

So I'm sitting in a chair, trying to get rid of my house funny money as quickly and unobtrusively as possible, all the while feeling like I've got a huge dorky sign over my head that's flashing messages like "Virgin!" or "Lives with Mommy!" or "Really Wants To Be Comfortable but..."

Anyway, an idea hit me that was too funny to ignore. Essentially, I paid a dancer to give one of the newer, younger members of the crew a hard mack on the mouth. I was shrewd, too: she initially wanted the full price of a lap dance to do it but I said that was too much. So then she asked for half and the deal was done.

She sashayed up to this poor guy, worked in nice and close, bent her head in closer and closer, then MASH! Planted a juicy one full on the mouth.

I died. I may never see anything so funny ever again. He got up as calmly as he could under the circumstances, and against the volume of the music started yelling about getting "the Herp." When he returned from the rest room he told us not to bother looking for any mouthwash, he'd used it all.

Was this cool of me? Of course not. Does humor justify the means? You decide. The real lesson here is probably the evil that men do when it's caused by being bored out of your mind in a strip club. I should say, in the interests of completeness, that my friend never went on to develop "the Herp" and that as far as I know all lived happily ever after. I'd like to think he went back and married her but that would be stretching it. Damn, that was funny. Mean, perhaps, but godawful funny.

Sadly, now you know what kind of person I really am. Go have a lap dance. It'll make you feel better.