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How I got a Handicapped Woman to Touch my Penis

cyst

I had a cyst on my penis.

Well, it depends on who you ask. I consider that part of my body to be my penis. If I was asked to measure my penis, like by the folks at Guinness, I’d jam a ruler into my crotch and the cyst would be between the black one-inch line and the painful red line created by the ruler. But if the Guinness folks measured it themselves, they may conclude the cyst is NOT on my penis, but instead on its base, thus confirming my record as the “Most Delusional Man in the World”.

By the way, if you need a tape measure to measure your penis, your penis is weird. Stop pretending like you have a bedroom advantage. But if you do use a ruler, watch for splinters. And for those who think girth is more important than length: I don’t think Ron Jeremy is known for his 11-inch girth.

Before this blog post turns into a series of less-than-clever dick jokes, you should know that this cyst isn’t a STD. I have a long history of skin problems. Eczema, allergic reactions to earrings, a cyst surgically removed from my face, acne, dry skin, and I once had to have my foreskin removed. So a “penis-cyst” (medical term) is no problem – call the dermatologist.

Finnish doctor offices are sterile and lifeless. The colorless white walls scream out, “Healthcare is free in Finland, quit complaining!!” And only the gentle hands of an Estonian could get a floor that shiny. Grab a number, sit down, take your pick of two Finnish magazines. For women – a magazine with a plump, dyed-red-hair feminist on the cover. For men – a magazine on boats. One of a plethora of boating magazines available in the country, in Finnish, in a land with six days of summer each summer.

Americans consistently, and apprioratiely, butcher my surname. This doctor nailed it perfectly. “Schvarrrrzmann!!” All Finns nail it perfectly. Americans get infuriated when people don’t pronounce their names properly. But if I walked around San Francisco saying, “Hello, my name is Phillip Schvarrrrzmann!”, people will think I’m Hitler.

Approaching the doctor I notice she has that terrible birth defect where you have very tiny arms. Like a child’s arms on an adult body. I feel so bad for her. Growing up must have been rough. Dating ain’t easy. But no time for emotions, I need to quickly decide whether or not to shake her hand. Does she hate it when people shake her hand? Do my able-bodied arms remind her of her handicap? Will touching her hand gross me out? Am I going straight to hell when I die?

OR….

Do I skip the traditional handshake? Doctors sometimes avoid contact to prevent the spread of germs. Maybe a wave or bow could be substituted. But would this be rude? Does she hate it when people don’t shake her hand? Would it remind her of her handicap? Yes, I’m going straight to hell when I die.

I shake her hand.

My drawers are dropped and she’s touching the cyst on [arguably] my penis. No latex gloves, just skin on skin. To diffuse my awkward feelings, I tried desperately to think about how this situation is sexy. It has to be, right? I’m not into fetishes. …OR AM I?? I haven’t even seen porn like this. I have a legal, medical reason for another woman to touch my penis. Am I the first male to beat the Urologists-are-always-men rule? No no, she’s a doctor, she’s a professional, I’m probably the fourth penis she’s touched that morning.

What a day. What a blog post! After hours of scrubbing her hands with scalding hot water and bleach, she no doubt thought, “Gross!! They don’t pay me enough to touch weird cyst-penises.”

 

Author Description

Phil Schwarzmann

I'm a writer, stand-up comic, and author of “How to Marry a Finnish Girl” (Gummerus Publishers, 2011). Better! Funner! is where I write. Poorly. More of my jibber-jabber at: www.philschwarzmann.com

  • Gavin

    Working in Russia, we had to have an annual ‘dirty foreigner’ exam for AIDS, STDs etc for continuation of the official work permit. The company I work for pay $800 a shot for the exams in a fancy expat clinic. The young sexy female Russian doctor checks my penis for rashes etc. I say “for $800 I’d expect you to check it faster and longer than that’ The look she gave me made me feel more childish than I have ever felt in my entire life. Could be one of my proudest moments as an adult.

Buy my fucking book! (please)


 

Phil’s debut humor book, “How to Marry a Finnish Girl” is out now on Gummerus Publishers.

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About Better! Funner!


 

Better! Funner! is a blog written and curated by Phil Schwarzmann. You’ll find funny original pieces, some not-so-funny pieces, plus stuff that made Phil laugh from around them internets. Enjoy!

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