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April 26, 2005
Saturday Morning
Apparently the NFL draft came and went this past weekend. It, being one
of the least important things in my life, went by more or less
unnoticed. Pretty much like every NFL draft before it.
There's really only been one draft I've concerned myself with. Well, it
wasn't exactly a draft. It was chosing roommates for my senior year
dorm room.
I went to an all guys boarding school, and at the end of my junior year
we got together and picked our roommates for the following school year.
As seniors we had a bit of a different setup than our junior year. We
were going to be in different building with huge rooms spread over
three floors. The rooms each about 20'x 40' housed about six people and
we had to divide ourselves among them.
Among those rooms and three other single rooms.
What concerned me and the rest of my classmates was not so much rooming
with our friends - that was pretty much assured - it was not rooming
with Ernie. He was the black sheep of the class. The guy not only
crying out for a single room, but the guy everyone wished had his own
room - Nobody wanted to room with him.
The trouble was most people, at least in part, wanted a single room.
when asked who wanted a single room more than three hands were raised.
Only one hand higher and more frantically flailing than the others,
attached to a body hopping in and out of its seat, but more than three.
So the powers the were decided that since there were so many people
that wanted their own room we needed to have a drawing. They passed out
paper for everyone to write their name on before dropping into a hat.
The moderator grabbed only as many pieces of paper as there were hands
raised, but ran out of paper long before everyone that wanted a piece
got one. While he had his back turned to grab the paper a battle plan
was disseminated, "get a piece of paper and put Ernie's name on it.
He'll get his own room then."
It's not that Ernie was a mean, or rude. He didn't really even have bad
hygiene either. Well, he did pick his nose with a frequency previously
unknown to the rest of us. And he did pop his zits with astounding zeal
and regularity, regardless of who or how many people were present. It
was the chronic masturbating that we all wanted to avoid.
It was a well know fact that anyone who had to share a room with
Ernie would also have to share a room with the sound of him
masturbating. He showed us all one day during algebra. The entire class
saw him that Friday and, of course, word spread.
I remember it was a Friday, because I was stuck rooming with him, and
the very next day was a Saturday.
Our dorm rooms were in a different building. The set-up was different
and the way we got our roommates was drastically different. We didn't
so much get to chose who are roommates were and I was stuck with Ernie.
I rarely stent time in my room, so it wasn't much of an issue - the
only large amounts of time I spent in my room were on lazy weekend
mornings that stretched into the afternoon.
That was, and still is, just about every weekend. I can't and won't get
out of bed until I have to and after rising I often return fully
dressed with a book, a magazine or the intent to get in "one quick nap"
to avoid rushing headlong into a productive day. I was doing that the
Saturday after Ernie scarred us all with his public display of
affection for masturbating.
I was sitting on my bed reading a magazine when Ernie, in the opposite
corner of the room, began masturbating vigorously in his bed. I'm
like 20 feet away. What the hell is wrong with him? He knows I'm
here.
I was positive Ernie knew I was in the room. There were no walls within
the room to obscure his vision, and he was awake when I came into the
room about 5 minutes earlier not in what I remember to be an altogether
stealthy manner.
He's disgusting. I was about to get up to spread the word when a
friend of mine walked in and started talking to me. I didn't concern
myself too much with what he was saying. I was too disturbed by what
was going on in the corner of my room.
So disturbed I had to let Dave, my friend, share in my disgust. (And
amusement. Who am I kidding?) Dave positioned himself at near the side
of my bed with Ernie to his back. He was directly between Ernie and me
and I used that to my advantage -- to get him to notice Ernie's actions
without Ernie noticing me pointing them out.
I pretended to point out a picture in the magazine I was reading but my
gestures, I thought, made it obvious I was pointing out the wanton self
loving going on just behind Dave's back. "Look at this picture. Did you
know Frank Black looked like that?"
"Look like what?"
He didn't seem to get the idea. I gestured through the magazine to the
action behind him. "Like this. This one here."
"Which one?"
How can he not get it? I looked up only to see that Dave had the
seen Ernie and had the same idea. He too was point at Ernie's wildly
creaking bed. "You mean this one?"
"Yeah. Paul's a big fan of him. I've got to show him this picture."
"Good idea. I'll go with you."
We hurried out the room before the giggling commenced. "What the fuck?
Does he ever stop?"
"I'm not sure when he started, but he was doing it a couple minutes
before you came in."
"No. I mean, he was doing it yesterday in class too, right?"
"oh, that's right. You're not in our algebra class. -- Yeah. He was."
"He's a gross little fucker."
"Let's get Paul. He loves making fun of Ernie for this shit." We
hurried off to get Paul, who seemed, more than any of the rest of us,
to enjoy overtly hassling Ernie for his public masturbation and
disgusting grooming habits.
"Paul. Ernie's doing it again."
"What this time?"
"He's jerking off. He was doing it when we were both in the room. Check
this shit out."
"No way. Again?"
The three of us hurried back, most likely giggling like -- well, like a
bunch of teenagers -- to my room, the room I shared with the chronic
masturbator, and found Ernie stroking more intensely that ever. He had
the covers lifted with one hand to facilite his viewing of the other's
activities. "Ernie!
"What are you doing later?"
He quickly whipped over onto his side. "Huh?"
"What are you doing later this afternoon?"
"Nothing. Why?"
"I was just wondering if you were going into town. But I guess not.
Forget it."
We lingered for a few seconds. Before leaving to start the days
activities -- which, if I'm not mistaken involved a lot of story
telling.
It was just a couple seconds but as we collectively took a look back on
the way out we all noticed Ernie was back at it.
Posted by calculatoronfire at April 26, 2005 12:12 PM
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