I Wish I Had An Erection

It's a beautiful Sunday evening, and I am waiting for a bus (to take me just two stops from the Perambur railway station), standing 'under' a heavy backpack and carrying a package which I am to deliver to my uncle's colleague who in turn is to deliver the same to my sister overseas. The package is a jute bag weighing a little over 10 kilos and I am late by a little more than 2 hours. A bus arrived - reminding me of the overly-stuffed-and-about-to-pop bag I am carrying myself. As I (barely) place one of my feet on the foot-board, the other dangling mere inches above the asphalt - one of my hands tightly clasping a window-sill and also holding the package at the same time, with the other hand free to buy a ticket - I can feel the pride in my own dexterity as the bus picks up momentum.

And then the unthinkable happens...

As I reach for the coins inside my pocket, as though by the Devil's intervention, the only straps that hold my trousers unfasten themselves completely in a snap! All that now prevents them from falling straight down to the moving ground below (leaving me butt-naked in a moving bus) is my hand inside the pocket. I know I am in serious trouble.

As I try to "hold my trousers from inside my pocket" while I pretend to reach for coins (and evade dirty looks from the bus-conductor), I learn that the next stop has already 'arrived' and that I, along with the other fellow dexterous foot-board passengers, ought to first get down from the foot-board, in turn allowing the not-so-dexterous 'inside' passengers to get down. With my hands still "searching for coins", I alight from the bus.

With just seconds to spare before the bus would start off, I now re-position myself on the foot-board, only this time with the package I have been carrying to remain a few inches below my own 'package' with the former now holding the trousers from falling down with the aide of my vice-like legs. Alas! My hand can 'finally' take out the coins and buy myself a ticket. I come to the realization that I am now a human laundry-clip!

 And then more unthinkable things happen in split-second processions (best concieved in slow-mo):

1. The conductor hands over the ticket as I reach my hand towards him.

2. A man who has been witnessing my ordeal decides to 'help' by yanking my jute-bag free from the clutches of my legs to place it in a safer place inside the bus.

3. A stray-dog instantly fallen irresistibly in love with a... well... 'bitch', decides not to waste time but to run towards her, risking being crushed to pulp by a moving 50 tonne bus.

4. My bus-driver slams the brakes forcing people to fall 'gracefully' towards the exit upon the souls standing on the foot-board, forcing me to brace myself with my hand that reached for the ticket or fear falling head-first on the asphalt below. I wisely choose option 'A'!

5. My trousers begin their glorious free-fall.

With both my hands 'occupied' - and being someone who does not give up easily, I decide to use my wiener to brake the fall of my trousers.

I WISH I HAVE AN ERECTION!!!

(Ever heard of Masters and Johnson's Light-bulb and Iron Theory?)

Quickly, I scan for a female who is (anything close to) sexy who I can 'use' to "turn-on my light-bulb". Aha! I spot one... Time to focus hard... hard... hard....

And that was the time I made a shocking discovery.

MEN DON'T FIND WOMEN TO TURN THEM ON WHEN FACING A LIFE-OR-DEATH SITUATION!!!

(...although research has shown that the reverse is true for women!)

...

Saddened by my inability to perform under pressure - Performance Anxiety as experts elegantly call it - I somehow manage to alight from the bus once and for all "in full piece", with my trousers now poised precariously in an ultra-low-waist (or rather low-bottom) fashion. My "trendy outfit" only provokes a contemptuous look by the hot 60 year old 'auntie' who I had previously "laid my eyes on"...

"Kids!!!!", she scoffs, as she adjusts her pink spaghetti-top......