I remain haunted by a question. After years and years, it still occasionally bubbles up into the perimeters of my conscious mind and makes me shudder. For I still don’t have a good answer. There is no good or right answer. There is no winning. There is only losing. There are only wrong answers….
My friend Jeff would regularly pose this horrid question to, well, basically anybody after sobriety had escaped him. It was his favorite way to ruin a good time and the mental health of everyone he was hanging out with.
I so dislike this question and thinking about it, that for days, I debated whether to go ahead and publish this post. Regarding this specific piece of writing, I feel embarrassment, disgust, and a general sense that I’m most certainly not contributing anything good or useful to the world. Alas, I clearly have decided to publish the piece because it’s hard enough for me to find the fortitude to complete an essay, and this one for some reason flew out of my fingertips. I’m in no position to waste a completed piece of content. I have plans to do better, just not yet. So read on and know that I too am disappointed in myself. If after this disclaimer you don’t want to know the question, leave this blog post now.
Here’s the question:
Seriously, are you sure you want to know? I made you scroll all the way down here to give you one more out. But fine, you’re an adult, scroll down a smidge more and ruin your whole damn day.
Last chance!
Ok. The question is as follows:
Would you suck your dad’s dick to save your mom’s life?
What a stupid, terrible, perverted question, Jeff. Where do you think up these sick ideas?
My immediate and instinctive response is I ain’t sucking no one’s dick. But I then pause to reflect. Because of that, mom’s dead. Oh, the guilt! You couldn’t just put the meat in your mouth for your own dear mother’s life?! You selfish ass. Get past yourself.
But it’s not just anyone’s meat- it’s your dad’s meat. Oh the weird horrible complexes you will inherit through such an act.
You agonize over the quandary you’ve become mercilessly trapped in. What a pickle-It’s your dad’s pickle for your mom’s life. In truth, you know what you’re gonna do. What you gotta do. You just haven’t accepted it yet.
…. So you suck your dad’s dick. Mom lives. You stepped up to the plate and saved a life. Hooray!
Except not hooray, for you will never, NEVER be the same. Think about how the dynamics have instantaneously and seismically shifted. There are no more casual family gatherings. You can’t eat at their dinner table ever again. What’d ya make, ma? Bratwurst?! Brats?! You’re metaphorically serving me dad’s dick on a bun, and I’m literally triggered by your callous meal-planning.
There are no more holidays. Memorial day? There is now only one memory, and it’s not a good one. Certainly not one worthy of a holiday.
No more fatherly advice. He should’ve advised against you sucking his dick, so he lost credibility at that point.
Henceforth, every time you see your lovely mother’s living face, the specter of your dad’s wedding tackle appears across her face- a teabagging ghost haunting her forehead and your mind. Looking at her is now like staring into the eye of Sauron.
Maybe this was the correct course of action. Maybe your deeds were in fact valiant. Maybe you are the tortured hero, doing right, even at your own expense.
Hmmm. A hero, maybe. But inside, you just feel like a guy who sucked his own dad’s dick.
Yolo 69 420 