Condoms

   When Jake entered the pharmacy, he went to grab every single item he had forgotten to get in the supermarket. Of course, everyone at home was mad at him because he hadn’t gotten every single thing they had been waiting for. Granted, he had been in charge of groceries and so on that week but he was too busy with the presentation of his next book coming so fast. The only thing on his mind was how not to feel overwhelmed again when telling people to buy their book.

 As he walked through the dental aisle, he remembered how he had started as a writer. The truth was that he had never really considerer writing as an option to win a living. After school, he had fallen in love with the idea of becoming a news presenter in television. For some strange reason, he had always thought those men and women were always the peak of the journalism profession as the used their faces and knowledge to make people learn about daily events.

 So he went to college and outdid himself in order to become a proper journalist. From the first moment, he knew he wanted to do an internship at the end of his career, one in a television channel in order to start climbing steps right there. He would become a sensation and people would discover him there and everything would be perfect for him. Each semester, he convinced himself his path to success had absolutely no floss and that he was in it to win it.

 Unfortunately, life is not about what we want but about what we get and do with it. The only internship available when he had to get one was in a editorial company involving books by the most boring authors he had ever heard. They published a lot of self-help books and guides to do things like learning yoga or how to make your dog a nice little cape. It was the only thing he could get and was obliged to stay there for a whole year.

 Suffice to say, the experience was a nightmare. Not only did his boss take her job a bit too seriously, the people he worked with were too sensitive about everything. Apparently one of the conditions to properly work there was to believe in all the crap they sold and he certainly did not buy any of that. However, he got his first writing gig there when his boss asked him to write something about anything, as long as they could fill their obligations of that period.

 Jake was annoyed by this obligation at first but then he realized he could use it to make something good. He had wanted to make something very focused on journalism but rather ended up writing the story of a disgruntled man who failed once and again when trying to become a real journalist. The small short story was a huge hit.

 As they really didn’t publish literature there, his boss was king enough to send his work to other places and he got a call from a company called Walrus Publishing when he was asked to come on board as an editor. Mind you, this was only months after graduating from college. The rest of his classmates had barely had a couple of job interviews. He was very lucky.

 He already had a large amount stuff in his basket at the pharmacy when he entered another aisle and laughed so hard some people turned around and looked at him as if he was mad. He had laughed because he had seen all the condoms on display and every time he saw those small packages, he remembered his first book.

 Work on it had started about two years after he had started working as an editor on Walrus. People were much nicer there than in his previous job and he really enjoyed everything that he did. However, he realized he wanted to keep writing so he did it on his spare time and planned to show his boss once he finished the whole story.

 It was going to be a science fiction dystopian novel about an invasion. He pictured everything in a serious note and had planned every single aspect of it. So much so that he had even made drawings about the protagonist and of the planets he talked about in the story.

 However, when time came to show his boss, he really hated it. He thought the story thought too much of itself, it aimed at being too serious and it really wasn’t that much of a deal. Of course, Jake was very upset by this and had a long period of time when he realized he wasn’t really a creative person but rather that guy that gets it right once and that’s it. He then decided not to try again and just deliver himself to everything in life that may help him be less sad.

 In other words, he started to drink more, to smoke and to have sec with almost complete strangers. It wasn’t like him to do that but, now that he lived by himself and was so depressed about his talent, it really felt like the moment to lose himself to all of that. So he attended a lot of parties, where he would always be smoking and he would disappear in weird moments at the same time that someone else.

 It was in such a state when he got a very awful virus that made him say in bed for two straight weeks. He had a sore throat, his eyes were always bloody and his whole body hurt. He never went to the doctor but this time he was scared the flu wouldn’t leave him. The doctor told him, very alarmingly, that he should get and HIV test, just in case.

 If he was pale already, Jake turned into a piece of paper when the doctor said those words. He drank the medication he gave him and he postponed several times going to get the test. But realizing his former crazy life could not go on just like that with that on his mind, he decided to go on a Saturday, as they had consultations every single day.

 In the small waiting room there were few people other than him: a young boy and girl couple, a pregnant woman and a guy about his age that couldn’t keep moving his leg. He seemed very agitated and looked at the ground as if he was attempting to make a whole in it with his sight. Jake tried to ignore the people around him to be lees worried but actually the opposite worked better: when the guy stood up, he stepped on himself and almost hit the counter where the nurse that called him waited.

 People got up, as to help him, but he stood up fast but instead of grabbing the counter to straighten himself up, he grabbed a big fish bowl full of condoms which made him fall into the ground, showered by a rainbow of colors corresponding to many small packages of condoms that had rained on his head.  The worst thing was there were also small packs of lube in the bowl, so when he tried to stand up fast, he just went back down as he had stepped on some of those and the jelly like substance had made him fall over again.

During all of this, Jake tried not to laugh but it had been impossible by the end. As everyone helped the guy, he just laughed. The nurse asked him to walk to his test and he was so relaxed he didn’t even think too much about it. Not until he met the guy again when coming out of his consultation. He was outside, on the phone and hung up at the same time Jake came outside. He seemed very bummed out, about to cry.

 Something on his face, his body language, attracted Jake to talk to him and ask what was wrong. The guy, instead of telling him, started crying. And as he cried, Jake could see the guy had a condom pack right on his shoe. He grabbed it, laughed again and that’s how they decided nothing was that bad. They went out for a coffee and got to know each other better.

 As Jake went back home after buying everything he had missed in the supermarket, he entered home and found Greg, the condom guy, with little Grace and Mark sleeping on his lap as they watched TV. He kissed him softly on the mouth and, out of nowhere, threw him a pack of condoms. Greg laughed so hard he woke up his son and daughter and the two of them had to carry the kids to bed, as they remembered that one time when a condom had made such a difference, again.

The sound of latex

   I could hear it once and again and again. Every single time I closed my eyes, I remembered that noise and it made me sick. For some reason, I couldn’t stand it but the roots of the problem were probably much deeper. No one just has an irrational disgust for something, it always come from somewhere.

 To be precise, it was the sound of latex pulling out of their bodies. That was the sound that made me sick, repeating itself once and again and again on my brain. Every single guy I ended up with had that faculty of making a strange noise when they removed a condom after we had finished and it was the only thing I remembered clearly.

 Yes, you could say I was a bit promiscuous but I always took care of myself. That was the only thing that was constant in those dates, in those outings if you will. The rest was always slightly different but always ended with that horrible sound and it stuck in my head.

 One time, the sound was so very ingrained in my ears that I couldn’t really hear anything else. So after getting out of that house, or being kicked out probably, I put on my headphones and tried some loud music to make me forget about the sound. But it kept coming back every time and it made my stomach turn.

 The last time, I actually had to vomit by a tree in the middle of the night. I guess I couldn’t take it anymore and my body had to translate what it felt in whatever way possible. After doing that, I felt weak and disgusted and sad. I started crying right there and was thankful no one was walking down that street at that time of night.

 I decided to walk home, which was not the best idea but I knew no taxi driver would pull out for me in the state I was in. I was disgusting and tried to fix it by taking off my now dirty t-shirt and folding it to keep inside one of the big pockets in my coat, which I closed tightly due to the cold weather at night.

 I walked a few blocks and then realized I had no idea where I was going. My brain was confused; I was lost and had no idea why. I couldn’t form a rational thought in my head and I slapped myself hard in the face to wake up and do something that made sense but it didn’t work at all. I don’t remember having had anything to drink that day and I don’t do drugs. I’m not that fucked up yet. But I didn’t feel normal and started worrying that maybe the guy I had been with had done something to me. I tried to remember and the only thing that came to my mind was the horrible sound of latex.

 I covered my ears and started crying again and tried to keep on walking but I couldn’t. It was too difficult, too complicated for me to keep on moving with all the images that were coming to my mind. It was like seeing many photo albums at the same time, and these were all about my sexual encounters with random men. I knew what I did and how I did it but apparently my brain and my body were trying to tell me that they couldn’t do it anymore.

 Suddenly, I collapsed. I fell to the ground on my knees, getting hurt really badly. The world started to turn and the only thing I could hear was latex…

 When I woke up, I was still very dizzy. I was lying in some sort of bench but I wasn’t in a park or anything like that. I instantly smelled food and my stomach growled, complained it had nothing inside. The light was very bright and when I tried to get up, a man got closer and told me I could rest there all I wanted.

 He was really nice, he looked nice at least. His smile was soothing and I just did what he said. I put my back against the wall and keep my legs up on the bench like chairs and realized I was in a small restaurant, the kind of place you an find really late at night, for those who want something to eat after partying or having a load of beer or any other alcohol. After all, they say fat brings the drunkenness down.

 I stay there, unable to close my eyes again. My head still felt like a toy used by a baby but I could at least focus on what my eyes were seeing because it made me feel a bit more relaxed. The guy that had come up to me appeared to be the only employee working the night shift. He brought food to the two busy tables and started mopping the floors when he had a moment. It was then he looked at me and I couldn’t help it. I had to smile.

 He smiled back and then my smile disappeared. He was very beautiful, an angel, and I couldn’t just smile in the state I was in. I was a disgrace; a fallen being that didn’t deserve any kind of kindness. I had always thought I was a little bit below everyone else, so maybe that’s why I preferred to be submitted to others and that’s why it was who always heard the sound of latex, every single time.

 The smell of food made my belly growl again and I decided it was time to leave. When I put my feet on the ground, the man got closer and told me I should wait, as he was going to end his shift as soon as the sun rose in a few minutes. Then, he could take me home in his motorcycle. He said he would feel much better if he did that because he didn’t want me to be in danger.

 In my head, I wondered why the hell he cared about me and if I got killed or if I vomited again in another tree. Maybe he had seen so many fucked up guys in the world that he just had to help them. Or maybe he knew of someone who could have used that help and now was dead because no one had given him a hand when he was drunk and wasted.

 I just sat down and waited and the thought that maybe he wanted me for something more passed my mind. And I decided I would fall on purpose of the motorcycle before I accepted to that. I couldn’t be this person anymore and that included hooking up with any person I saw on the street, no matter how kind and nice they were to me. So if he wanted more, he wouldn’t get it. My business was close.

 I laughed when I thought of that, because of the phrasing, and some of the people paying their food looked at me with disgust. They probably smelled my t-shirt or simply saw who I was and knew I was just the scum of the Earth sitting there, too close to them, and that made them cringe. I thought that they had probably done awful things too, but they had that thing that most people have when you lie to yourself about what you do. I had lost that, that very night.

 I had no shame anymore, no standards or limits. I was well past any of that. And I couldn’t lie to myself about it. I was who I was and that was a fact and the truth and nothing I could tell myself could change that. It was a bit sad but at least it was honest and I hadn’t been honest in a while, so it felt really good.

 The guy came out of the kitchen wearing a black leather jacket and his helmet. I walked closely behind him towards the motorcycle. He met the guy that would take the next turn. That one didn’t look at me, which was something really weird as I was only a few centimeters away. He took me out of my thoughts asking me my address and I said it, robotically.

 We got on the motorcycle and left that place. He accelerated and I pressed my hands around his waist, about to fall asleep once again. We got to my place in no time and was surprised because he didn’t said anything about coming up and it was indeed my house because the doorman recognized me.

  I stood there by the motorcycle and he just took a good look at me and asked: “What happened to you?” I opened my mouth and then closed it again because I wasn’t sure I understood the question. I didn’t know what he meant. He didn’t wait for the answer anyway. He winked at me, told me we would meet again and then drove away fast.

 That morning, before I fell asleep again, the sound of latex came back to my mind. But it was now mixed with the sound of the motorcycle, the image of a wink and the thought that, maybe, life hadn’t been able to destroy every single part of me. Maybe, I wasn’t done.