Story #3

Real story this time. Nothing new--I'm just moving it from my Facebook.

Story #3
Condom from David Sedaris

It is Thursday evening and my brother John asks me if I have heard of David Sedaris. "Of course," I reply, after which he tells me that Mr. Sedaris will be speaking in Spokane this Saturday at 2:00 pm. I am scheduled for work this Saturday from 12:30 pm to 5:00 pm.

It is Friday afternoon and I am at work. I asked my brother Brendan to call the bookstore that is hosting the event to see whether there are any tickets left. He calls me back to tell me that they are sold out. I am currently straightening the 780's in adult nonfiction.

It is Friday evening and I am contemplating whether I should go. I have read only one of Sedaris' essays and heard only a few more on This American Life. I want to go. I decide that sold-out tickets are not a good enough reason to stop me from listening to David Sedaris.

It is Saturday morning and my brothers and I leave for Spokane.

It is Saturday afternoon and I am sitting near the front row, watching David Sedaris speak. He talks about breast milk and about Nicaragua. In my hand, I hold an orange ticket that was given to me for free with the number 281 written on it. This is the number in line I have to get a signing.

It is still Saturday afternoon and I am given a condom by Mr. Sedaris. I am currently holding a different orange ticket, given to me by my brothers, given to them by a stranger exiting the room. On it is the number 31.

It is moments before I acquire the condom. As we are speaking, he is signing two books. One belongs to Neill Public Library and the other I will give to my co-worker Laura, the one who traded shifts with me so I that could come. I think autographed books are silly, so I don't have one signed for myself. I want to tell him about my entire life, but instead, I just tell him about each of the two books.

"How old are you?" he asks.

"18," I reply.

"So are you in high school or college?" he asks, and I tell him that I will be going to the University of Chicago this fall. "That's where fun goes to die," he says. "It is!" I say.

"Before you go to the University of Chicago--" he says as he reaches into his bag. I am hoping he will give me a special pass to meet Ira Glass at the Chicago Public Radio station, but instead, he pulls out a strip of condoms. He finishes his thought as he rips one off, but I can't entirely make out what it is he says. I do, however, hear the phrases, "I don't want to be responsible," "some poor virgin," and "in the ass." I thank him, and then I leave. I don't question why he has so many condoms in his bag.

It is Saturday night and I think that David Sedaris has told me to have butt sex before leaving for Chicago.