Troubles and Treats (13 page)

“GO!” the judge yells, holding a small air horn above his head, pressing the button
for a single, loud noise indicating the race has begun.

I quickly pull the bullet off of the table and close my eyes, pushing my hand clutching
the bullet down the front of my pants.  Drew’s suggestion of wearing yoga pants with
no underwear is genius.  I have easy access without having to get naked in front of
all of these people.

I hear screams and shouts of “Go!  Go!  Go!” from all around me, but I block it all
out, hit the power button on the vibrator, and concentrate.

As soon as the bullet touches my clit, I know this isn’t going to take long at all. 
I wasn’t lying when I said I missed sex.  Not having the time or energy to even masturbate
lately has built up my need even more.

There are some gasps from the crowd and I think I hear someone say, “Oh sweet Jesus,”
but I don’t care about what else is going on with the other racers.

I slide the bullet all around me, and I can already feel the little tingles of pleasure
shooting down my legs.  I squeeze my eyes closed even tighter and think about the
one time Drew and I had sex in our basement on a pile of his old stuffed animals from
when he was a child.  The things that man can do with a Pound Puppy…

I can’t stop the moans that escape from my mouth as I hold the bullet still against
my clit and let it do all of the work to bring me to completion.  I think again about
the basement sex and Drew barking and that’s all it takes to send me over the edge
into oblivion.  I shout my release and my free hand smacks down on top of the table
to hold me steady as my orgasm washes through me.  When the tingling has stopped and
my orgasm is over, I quickly pull the bullet out of my pants and smack it down on
the table, throwing both of my arms in the air in victory.

I was so focused on my orgasm and flashbacks of basement sex that I didn’t even realize
how quiet the tent had gotten.  I open my eyes and notice people staring at me and
all of the vibrators bouncing around on the table.

“Uh, honey.  I think we may have got the rules of the race a little mixed up,” Drew
tells me as he comes up behind me.

Oh my God.  Was I the only one masturbating?  What the fuck?!

“Uh, I’m not really sure how to pick the winner of this race,” the judge says from
the other side of the table, clearly looking a little confused.

“Why the fuck didn’t you stop me?” I whisper frantically at Drew.

“It all happened so fast.  And to be honest, it was hot as fuck,” Drew tells me.

“I do believe I clearly won the wager,” Jim says from the other side of me where Carter
and Claire are laughing hysterically.  “Judge, I think Jenny here needs to be the
winner of this heat for creativity alone.”

The whole tent lets out a roar of approval and there is so much cheering and clapping
that people from other tents have wandered over to see what is going on.  I’m so mortified
I can’t even move.  All I can do is stare at all of the vibrators bouncing up and
down on the table in front of me until Claire’s Butterfly FX 2000 inches ahead of
the rest and bounces right off of the end of the table where I now see a black and
white checkered finish line is painted.

“Son of a bitch!” Claire shouts.  “I would have totally won that thing!”

“So, babe,
about that pep talk before the race-”

I cut Drew off before he can say anything else.  “Don’t even think it.  You are NOT
getting your brains fucked out tonight!”

Contrary to popular belief, standing around at a vibrator race and allowing your wife
to masturbate in a tent full of strangers when she’s actually supposed to be putting
the vibrator down on a table to race it will not get you laid.  Even if she promises. 
I try to get her to change her mind for two hours after we get home.  My dad is no
help.  Once he had found out what happened, I get a forty-five minute lecture on how
you’re never supposed to leave a man behind.  After he leaves, Jenny tells me to sleep
on the couch and console my penis on my own.

I try.  But every time I get a good yank and pull session going, I hear Billy crying
upstairs to be fed.  It’s all fun and games until your kid starts crying right before
you’re going to release the demons.  Talk about an erection killer.

Today, I have the house all to myself and you would think I’d spend it
comforting
my penis, but no.  I have other plans.  Jenny took Billy to Claire’s shop with her
today while she does some bookkeeping, and Veronica is at preschool for a few hours. 
I’m using this time wisely.  With the help of the little package I had got in the
mail yesterday, I am going to fix mine and Jenny’s sex life in just ninety minutes. 
I ordered a self-help CD called: How to Bring the
Spark Back into Your Marriage. 
I’ve closed the blinds, locked the doors, and put on my favorite motivational shirt:
Camel’s Tow Service; ask us about our Moose Knuckle discounts.

I grab the package from my work bag, where I hid it yesterday after I got the mail,
tear into it, and pull out the plastic CD case.  Popping it into the stereo system
in the living room, I crank up the sound and hit play.

“Hello and
t
hank you for purchasing: How to Bring the Spark Back into Your Marriage!”

“You’re quite welcome!” I reply to the man’s voice coming from the speakers.  He’s
British and British people always sound smart when they talk so this should be good. 
“’Ello Gov’na!”

See?  He’s already made me smarter.  I’m talking British.

“How ‘bout a spot of tea with the Queen?”

“Make yourself comfortable as we begin our first lesson.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” I say as I take a seat on the couch.

“Lesson One: Compliments.  Repeat after me, ‘You look beautiful today, insert name
of wife here.’”

“You look beautiful today, insert name of wife here.”

“Have you lost weight?”

“Have you lost weight?  Man, this is so easy.  I am going to rock this shit.”

“Take your clothes off and give me a blow job.”

“Take your clothes off and give me a blow job.”

“That was a trick.  If you repeated that last line, you will never get laid again.”

“Heeeeey, no fair!  What kind of self-help is this shit!”

“Lesson Two: Helping out around the house.  Repeat after me, ‘Can I help you with
those dishes?’”

“This is never going to work.  She’ll know something is up if I say that shit.”

“Say it or you’re never getting laid again!”

“Son of a birthday cake!  Can you hear me?” I ask the stereo in confusion.

I let out a sigh and figure I better do what he tells me or he’s going to get really
angry.  I don’t need self-help guy angry at me or he’ll stop helping me.  “Can I help
you with those dishes?”

“It’s okay, honey, I’ll fold the laundry.”

“Seriously?  You expect me to believe that folding laundry will get me laid?  Do you
even know what you’re talking about?” I ask the stereo.

“I know what I’m doing.  Say it.”

Stereo guy is starting to get a little angry.  I’m kind of afraid of stereo guy right
now.  I want to turn him off but I’m
scared
.  He knows where I live.

“It’s okay, honey, I’ll fold the laundry,” I say nervously.

“Say it like you mean it, asshole!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!  It’s okay, honey, I’ll fold the laundry!  Really, I will! 
I LOVE folding laundry!”

“Lesson Three: Helping out with the children.  Repeat after me, ‘I’ll get up with,
insert name of child here.  You go back to sleep.”

“I’ll get up with, insert name of child here.  You go back to sleep,” I say quickly
so I can stay on stereo guy’s good side.  I need to pass this shit or my penis is
going to be batting solo forever.

“Why don’t you go for a day at the spa. I’ll take care of the children.”

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea.  Why don’t you go for a day at the spa. I’ll take
care of the children.”

Maybe I judged stereo guy too quickly.  I mean he’s just trying to help me.  He wants
what’s best for me, and what’s best for me is Jenny’s vagina.

“I’m not changing that diaper. I don’t even know if the kid’s mine.”

“I’m not changing that diaper. I don’t even know if the kid’s mine.”

“You fell for it again, douchebag!  It’s like you’re not even trying.  Why am I wasting
my time on you?”

“Dammit!  Stop giving me trick questions!  You want me to fail, don’t you?  I hate
you, stereo guy!”

“Don’t get angry at me.  My wife still gives it up every day.  You’re the one with
the problem.”

“I don’t have a problem!  YOU have a problem!  You live inside a fucking stereo! 
You’re stupid and your voice is stupid!”

“I’m in your house now.  I know where you live and I can see you.  Don’t make me angry.”

“Oh no you DIDN’T just say that to me, you piece of shit!”

I get up from the couch and run over to the stereo, pulling it off of the shelf and
dropping it to the floor.  “Ha!  Try helping my self now, asshole!”

“I can still hear you.  You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” I scream as I turn around in circles in the middle of
the living room with my arms stretched out from my sides.

I run over to the plastic CD case I threw on the floor earlier and pick it up, checking
the back for information about the guy who recorded it.  I will not let him terrorize
me!

“Oh, ho, ho,
Dr. Earl Michaelson
!  What kind of a British name is that?  Wait, Duke of Earl, wasn’t he British?  Is
this the Duke of Earl?  Is the Duke of Earl threatening me?  I know who you are and
where YOU live now!  You messed with the wrong man, Duke of Earl!”

I’m going to call this guy and I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Big talk from a little Duke, stereo man!”

I pull out my cell phone and look up this guy’s information on Google.  Oh, Google,
how I love thee.  A phone number for the whole world to call.  Don’t mind if I do. 
I dial the number and wait for someone to answer.

“Is the Duke of Earl there?  I don’t know, like the song.  ‘Duke, Duke, Duke, Duke
of Earl, Earl, Earl.  Shut up!  I have a GREAT singing voice!”

I pull the phone away from my ear when I hear the dial tone.

“Stupid Duke of Earl.  You need to hire better help to answer your phones,” I mutter
as I hit redial.

“Yes, is
Doctor Earl
there?” I say, making my voice deeper.  “I don’t care if he’s with a patient, put
him on the damn phone!  Don’t you dare hang up on me!  Shit!”

I hit redial again, clearing my throat and preparing a different voice.  “Is Dr. Earl
there?  This is his mother,” I say in a high pitched female voice.  “Oh, his mother’s
dead?  Probably because he killed her with his awful advice!  Put him on the phone!”

Dial tone again.  What is wrong with these people?

“We’re not done with our lesson yet, dickwad.”

“I’m not a dickwad, YOU’RE A DICKWAD!” I yell to the broken stereo on the ground. 
How the fuck is he still talking to me?  This is like the movie ‘Chuckie’.  That damn
doll just wouldn’t die.  How the hell do you kill a CD that won’t die?

I call the number again and try a different tactic.  “Yes, this is Punjab from Czechoslovakia. 
Dr. Earl ordered something from us and I need to speak to him right away.  What do
you mean Czechoslovakia doesn’t exist anymore?  When the fuck did that happen?  Wow,
1992, seriously?  I probably should have learned that in school, huh.  No kidding? 
But it’s still there, right?  It didn’t like, blow up or something?  Interesting. 
No, no message.”

I hang up the phone and realize I was fooled again.  Like they would really just get
rid of some place called Czechoslovakia.  What would they do with all the Checkians? 
I wasn’t born yesterday, I know when someone is pulling my leg.

Since calling the Duke and telling him off isn’t going to work, I’ll just send him
an email.  I pull up Gmail on my phone and type in his email address that I found
on Google.

Dear Dr. Duke of Earl Dick Fuck, 

You are going down, buddy.  I will make you pay for this…

~

“Yes, officer.  I understand.  No, I promise there won’t be any more trouble.  Tell
Dr. Michaelson and his family we’re very sorry for scaring him.  Just send me the
bill for his hotel stay.”

Jenny closes our front door and turns around to look at me without saying a word.

“Can I just expl-”

“Oh, I think you’ve done plenty of talking today,” she cuts me off.  “Really, Drew? 
Threatening a psychiatrist and his family?  He took his wife and kids to a hotel because
they feared for their lives.”

Jenny walks away from the door and starts picking up pieces of the mangled stereo
on the living room floor.  I may have got a little too excited in my need to destroy
it.  There were pieces that flew all the way into the kitchen when I stomped on it
repeatedly.  According to all horror movies, you have to dismantle the pieces and
spread them out away from each other so they can’t get back together and form an even
scarier monster that will hunt you down and kill you.  I was protecting my family!

“Oh please, like fleeing from his house was really necessary,” I explain as I help
her pick up plastic pieces.

“You told him you were going to sneak into his house and watch him while he slept.”

It turns out the CD I bought was a fake.  Some disgruntled employee who worked at
the online store I had bought it from replaced a bunch of self-help CDs with one he
made at home.  Dr. Earl wasn’t the only one whose CDs had been replaced.  There had
been about a hundred other self-help people out there that it happened to as well. 
Oops.

“Why would you even buy a self-help CD in the first place?” she asks as she gets up
and takes a pile of pieces into the kitchen to dump them in the garbage.

I stare at her ass as she walks away and try to remember the last time I had my hands
on her ass.

“You look very beautiful today.  Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll take care of them,”
I tell her as I dump my own pile of pieces into the garbage can after she does.

“What are you talking about?  We have a dishwasher,” she says with a shake of her
head as she leaves the kitchen.

“It’s okay, honey!  I’ll fold the laundry,” I yell to her retreating back.

“I folded the laundry yesterday,” she shouts back angrily.

“Fuck you, Dr. Earl.  And fake Dr. Earl who recorded fake CDs,” I grumble to myself
as I turn the lights out in the kitchen and follow Jenny upstairs to see if I’ll be
allowed to sleep in bed tonight.  I’m going to go with no, but it doesn’t hurt to
ask.

I get to the top of the stairs and my pillow and a blanket are already in the hall,
next to our closed bedroom door.  With a sigh, I pick up my things and head back downstairs.

I curl up on the couch and pull up the porn app on my phone.  “At least I still have
you, little buddy.”

A few seconds later, a message pops up on my screen that says, “The porn app site
is temporarily down for service.  Please try back later.”

Oh my God, even porn doesn’t want me to have any satisfaction.

The universe obviously hates me.