Meanhood Rogues Gallery: The Evil Doppelganger

17 Aug

I thought I felt crabs, and I think I knew who gave them to me.

When I sat I felt crawling vicious things running rampant between my thighs.  I’d only felt this feeling once before when I found crabs in my nether regions at the tender age of 19.  I was living in Harlem all alone and–for the first time–living away from my mother or any sympathetic ear.

I wrote my mother a tearful fair well in spanish before I left Los Angeles. I told her I loved her and that I would miss her. As I left her at the airport she told me to be good, and what happens when I came to NY?

Hostile alien life forms invaded my genitalia.

The saying is history repeats itself, first as tragedy and then as farce.  I was scared when I was 19, but now I was disgusted.

“I think I have crabs,” I told Fly G over instant messenger.  He is my pill popping rock, my alcoholic confidante.

“EWWWW LOL You have what?” Was his response.

“I checked this morning.  I yanked a hair out and I saw an egg!  I remember what they looked like. And I feel itchy today, I can feel them, this is horrible…I just started seeing this boy, but I was maybe with someone before him, how long does it take for these things to appear?”

“They appear almost immediately. When you feel them then the last person you were with gave them to you. Kevin has crabs.” he said.

Suddenly my pleasant encounters with this boy felt as if they were under a malicious shade.  When we found out we both liked watching Ren & Stimpy, and when pigged out on Oreos and ice cream in bed, and when we spent a day in the park watching people walk across a tight rope tied between a tree and a decrepit lamp post?  All of that had been marred by crabs!

As I walked home with a RID bottle in hand I messaged him over facebook:

“This is really embarrassing, but I think I have crabs. I didn’t see anything but I felt them. I’ve gotten shampoo and you should check to see if you have them too. I was only with one other person before you, so I thought the responsible thing was to give you a heads up.”

The following day I reconvened with Fly G.

“Did you see any crabs?” He asked.

“No crabs…but I still saw eggs!”

“Were they on the middle of the hair or were they at the end?”

“The end” I said.

“Those aren’t eggs.  Those are your hair follicles you imbecile!”

I felt like the babysitter who finds out that the call is from inside the house, and then the 911 operator calls her an imbecile.

“You probably have jock itch.” Fly G said.

“…I’m not a jock. I’ve never been a jock.” And at that moment it hit me; the morning running, my health regiment, my inexperience with anything athletic, the days I’d come in from a run and decided I was too lazy to shower so I just sat in bed drinking water and eating cookies…

All of the scenarios involving crabs and degenerate sex were as grandiose as nordic myths.  The only crabs to be found were the doubtful ones nitpicking at the mind.  Even here at the edge of 30 I was imagining meanness where there was none.  Here is our ultimate ex; the evil doppelganger dredged up from years of bad experience casting doubt towards  people who don’t deserve it. I was finding fault where there was none deserved, and it was done without a conscience choice. So I made up my mind to stop it.

I explained the misunderstanding to the boy and I received the following message back: “Knew it wasn’t that because I didn’t have anything. A jock now? You’re such a sexy manly man!”

Well if it isn’t a compliment!  Hadn’t seen those in forever.

Advertisements

2 Responses to “Meanhood Rogues Gallery: The Evil Doppelganger”

  1. justaguynatl August 17, 2010 at 11:55 pm #

    You’re too funny…

    • Kevin J. August 18, 2010 at 11:39 pm #

      Or just crazy!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: