!DMViva!

Mon, 06 Dec 1999 17:00:00 +0000

The letter arrived on my desk Saturday afternoon, but I didn't get around to opening it until after midnight. It was from the Santa Clara County Municipal Court District. Although the actual text has been lost, the general tone of it went something like this:

Dear Shitbag:
The date for completion of traffic school has passed. In truth, we don't give a fuck about the points on your record or the increase in your insurance. To us, you're just another zit on the ass of decent society. But in a Christ-like gesture of mercy, we're giving you one last chance. If evidence of completion of the course is not firmly in our claws by noon Monday, your fees will be forfeited, the case will be closed, the DMV will be notified of the conviction, and the next time you come to Santa Clara County, we will throw your insubordinate little ass in the cooler until you rot. Do you understand? Rot!
Fuck you,
The System
Hmmm. Traffic school on Sunday. I immediately began to work the phones and the Web for a traffic school offering driver's improvement courses on the Lord's Day. Once on the Net, I quickly found such a course -- in Juneau, Alaska.
Shit.
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Diary of a Viagra fiend

Wed, 24 Nov 1999 17:00:00 +0000

"Have you tried it?" he asks. I look up from my desk to find a middle-aged friend leaning toward me conspiratorially, his face an odd combination of deadly seriousness and abject glee. "Viagra ... have you tried it?"

Christ.

Like I'm sure thousands of other people did today, I made a joke about Viagra. A co-worker walking by made an offhand comment about the droopiness of a floral arrangement on my desk, and I jokingly suggested dropping a Viagra in the vase to "perk things up" a bit. I expected to hear a courtesy chuckle as he walked away, but I didn't. And now here he is, lurking ominously over me, essentially asking me if I have trouble getting it up.

"No!" I finally say defensively.

Why would I have tried it? That stuff's for old men whose spouses sleep in separate beds. I'm a virile, healthy, 29-year-old American male. Sure, there has been a time or two when, for reasons ranging from disinterest to methamphetamine, little Tyson wasn't quite ready to get in the ring when the bell rang. But that happens to everybody, right? OK, yeah, so I recently acquired a 19-year-old girlfriend and maybe I've been feeling just a tad insecure about not being capable of some of the erectile heroics I was capable of at 16, when random stiffies occurred more often than not, and were so solid they were almost prehensile: you could hang umbrellas on them.

Salon.com > Jayson Gallaway

!DMViva!

Diary of a Viagra fiend