Pathetic Memory Mondays is a weekly-ish feature where I delve into my past to discuss a rather pathetic and sad memory. It’s hilarious now, unlike when the memory took place. It was very sad then.
Puberty and boredom do many things to a person. Many things that are wrong. Dirty. Things they regret the moment their father finds a box full of the remnants of primal urges and bad decisions.
I, like 125% of all high school guys, perused pornography from time to time. And unlike the kids of today, I had to use magazines due to slow internet (56k? GROSS.) I got these magazines from a dumpster.
Hastings in Enid, OK would often toss out old porno mags amongst other things. My friends and I would dumpster dive once a week and collect what we could, then split them up. I’m not proud of this, but I’m not not proud of this. You know how much those magazines cost? I was saving money AND helping the environment by picking up trash. You’re welcome, everyone.
I hid everything in my guitar case for a while, but my sister, home for a weekend from college, ratted me out for some reason I can’t remember. Probably because she’s an older sister and older sisters are required to suck sometimes. So I had to move everything.
Upon seeing an empty Xbox 1 box (the original Xbox, I guess? Is it the one? Or 1? Dammit, Microsoft), I decided to hide everything in it… in my sister’s closet.
Since moving out, my sister’s closet became a sort of storage space in our house, so it made total sense. I’d leave everything in it and be completely safe. No evidence of sin in my room!
Fast forward to two events.
First, a business trip to Wichita, KS. My theatre manager asked myself and two others to accompany him in helping open a new theatre. We went and at some point, arrived to a porn shop. I think we went because I said I had never been to one. Once inside, my manager said I had to buy something since we were there. After studying many things, along with a heavy dose of peer pressure, I purchased a latex vagina thing. It was very odd: blue (“are vaginas blue in real life and photoshopped in magazines?” I wondered), oddly studded on the inside (“are vaginas scary as shit on the inside?” I feared) and came with a weird, tiny vibrator thing (“do vaginas vibrate?” I hoped.)
Second, boredom in Enid, OK. There was a local adult novelty store, Priscilla’s, that we had never been to. We went one night, giggled at everything because we were children (I still giggle at everything), and we thought it’d be funny to purchase a penis pump to try to blow up various foods. I swear to everyone and everything, that was why we bought it. Four dudes, splitting the cost of a penis pump. What a glorious sight.
Needless to say, the pump didn’t work that way and we were bummed.
And somehow, this latex vagina and penis pump ended up where? In the Xbox box, along with lots of porno mags.
Fast forward 10 months later. I’m in college, freshman year, having a great time. I remember the sky was a beautiful shade of blue, the weather warm. Spring was coming! While excited, I was also a little sad because my parents were moving from Enid to Hutto, TX because my father got a new job there.
I’m enjoying some television when my father calls. What follows is pretty much the exact conversation we had:
Mark: Hey, dad! What’s up?
Dad: So, we are moving.
Dad: And I’m going through things in order to get rid of junk we don’t want.
Dad: And I came across this Xbox box…
(Fear. Embarrassment. Ashamed.)
Mark: I CAN EXPLAIN.
Dad: Nope, don’t wanna know.
Mark: Dad, I…
Dad: Nope. Don’t care, just wanna know if you want me to keep it.
Mark: Oh God, no…
Dad: Okay. I won’t tell your mom.
Dad: Talk to ya later!
Years later, when I tried to explain the contents of the box, my father just said, “I didn’t care what freaky shit you were doing, I just thought it was funny how poorly you hid it.”