Sunday, February 15, 2004

PARENTS...ANOTHER MISSIVE
When I was a teenager,everything was different...in the youth culture I grew up in differences were settled in a decidedly less fatal way than of late.If you got into a fight,chances were slim to none you were gonna get shot...someone,on rare occasion would pull out a knife,but it was almost always a bluff.You threw down,someone got their ass beat and it was over...you didn't have to worry about them driving by your house later and filling said house with lead and the smell of cordite.
STD's were similar....anything you got could be handled by a ten day run of antibiotics,it did'nt come back or morph into something that would kill you.
Simpler times for sure.All the girls were on the pill and the name of the game on weekends at the dillo was to get high,drink some beer,play some foosball and get laid.
When I was 15 I got the clap...the drip,the gift that keeps an giving. When I was sure I was afflicted I went down to the free clinic on the drag (which,interestingly enough,was the same church basement I did street outreach for the homeless youth of austin some 20 years later).Here I could get my pills without my parents finding out that I was -Gasp!-sexually active.
The line was a block long,full of people looking self conscious and nervous...it was as if they were all trying to say with body language..."not me...I'm here with my friend".
I grew impatient at the wait and decided I would tell my dad and seek his advice in what to do.
The next day,on the way to school,we had the following conversation....
ME: "Dad"?
DAD:"Yes son"?
ME: "I think I have the clap".
DAD:"What kind of dirty holes have you been fucking around in"?!
ME:"Come on Dad...what am I gonna do"?
DAD: "I'll take care of it...DON'T TELL YOUR MOTHER".
End of discussion.
That saturday,under the guise of going on a rock hunting trip,we went to the walk in clinic at the air force base hospital.
I was in a room with probably 50 other people,there was a nurse at a desk in front of us,calling out names and doing the initial consultation.
She called my name...this was the exchange:
NURSE: ( Smiling,in a normal voice) "And what's your problem today,young man"?
ME: (In a whisper) "I think I have the clap".
NURSE: (Grimacing,in a loud voice) "You think you have a VENEREAL DISEASE"?!
ME: (Wishing I was invisible) "Yes".
I turned around to go back to my seat and EVERYONE else in the waiting room was staring at me...in shock...in disgust...and suddenly feeling less critical about whatever ailment they had....that HIPPY has a VENEREAL DISEASE!
It was the most humiliating experience of my life and I wanted to run out of the clinic and disappear,but I was comitted,and my dick hurt.
The doctor I saw was an older Marcus Welby/Andy Griffith type who did a swab,confirmed what it was,handed me a script for amoxicillin and said (I swear)
"Now,don't go dippin' in till you've taken all these son" Patted me on the back and winked...swear to god,he fucking WINKED.
My dad poked at me some on the ride home but admonished me to be more cautious.The last thing he said was:
"Remember,DON'T tell your MOM".
I didn't have to...she did the laundry,she was a nurse,she figured it out.And she was mortified...and I was headed to prison...again.
She lightened up when she learned I was treating my affliction,and even hacked on me about it a little bit...she also admonished me to be cautious and gave me a little lecture about relationships...and you know what?
It was good advice.

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