Revelations

Somewhere between life and death I had imagined my ending to be... neater. When I finally came to the end, I discovered that it was like an exact photo of a rhinoceros attack: A big gray car splaying me out on the road like a butchered chicken. Some angry Muslim man behind the wheel of that mechanical rhino yelling at me with bits of turkey leg stuck to his beard. That lady I had met 12 hours ago prostrate in the air like a wingless bird. All these elements of my death had subsequently gathered together to form this oddly picture perfect scene.

And the only thing I had to ask myself was, why?

I guess you could say that I am “conceited” or “egotistical” or really any other variation of the word. The day I found myself being plastered on to the road was the same day I realized I am neither conceited nor egotistical. I just lack empathy. Or I’m just pusillanimous, the description is still up for debate. I came to this revelation after I donated my fluids to a sperm bank.

So far, it was an average Tuesday.

I was sitting in a blue vinyl chair staring at a printout of “The Scream” while I waited for one of the donation rooms to open up. As I stared at the ugly strokes of pastels and the O shaped mouth, I didn’t feel the despair everyone says the art evokes. I only saw someone looking astonished. Like a thematic apparition test, I started to formulate a story behind the picture. The only thing I could come up with is that he had seen something gruesome. Maybe he had seen something like his naked grandfather bending over causing his sagging balls to swing against his wrinkled thigh and stick to it like a spider web made out of skin.

Before I could come up with a different explanation or make up another story about why the man looked so distressed, I was called back and given a sterile cup to ejaculate into. A nurse lead me to a room with VCRs of porn and tittie magazines. Despite my best attempts to get her to assist me, I was able to sufficiently fill the cup up. Before leaving, I was handed a check and told to come back in two weeks.

I walked out of the sperm bank and saw a Muslim woman sitting on the curb talking to the man who had exited just before me. Before I had even made three steps towards the road the woman turned her attention to me like I was her next meal.

“Hey!” she called after me in a thick accent, “Hey you! I need to talk to you!”

I ducked my head down and walked faster in the opposite direction. I felt a strong hand grip my shoulder and turn me around. The 5’5 Middle Eastern woman was looking up at me with her brown bug eyes, her thin lips pursed like she was thinking of something very important.

“Listen,” she said not taking her hand off of my shoulder, “I just want your sperm.”

“Why?”

“My husband is dry and I want a child.”

“Well there’s a sperm bank right there.” I said pointing to the building wondering if she was blind.

“I can’t go in there.” She huffed waving her hand in the air as if to fan away the whole building.

I was about to ask why when she pulled out a wad of money and flapped it in my face.

“This is yours if you just give me a Dixie cup with your sperm. Two hundred American dollars all yours.” She insisted pulling me along the street and in front of an apartment building.

The reasoning behind accepting her offer went a little like this: Something god f*cking awful will happen if I go through with this. But what the hell? Rent money.

She quickly told me to meet her out in front of the building at midnight and then pushed me away with an anxious, “Get!”

Despite my best judgment—which is simply a mixed bag of bad decisions and regret—I returned to the apartment building with a sealed restaurant ramekin filled with the efforts of my last masturbation session. Or, ya know, the last two or three. Whatever. Either way, that little woman was there waiting for me, clothed in her head scarf and twiddling her fingers. She spotted me, ran over and snatched the plastic condiment cup out of my hand. As she pushed the wad of money into the front pocket of my jeans, a man with a turban sitting on his head ran out of the building.