Lost Ones

Okay:

We're all adults here, right?

One night something strange happened to me. Something that, to this day, I have never been able to figure out. I was hoping maybe one of you could help me solve the mystery.

I went to her apartment with a couple bottles of liquor and some DVDs. We ate the dinner she made and sat on her chaise lounge together watching a movie. It would be difficult to imagine a more perfect scene. The food was delicious, the movie was hilarious and we had plenty of liquor and cigarettes. I was in negro heaven. The only question racing through my mind was whether or not things were going to get intimate.

I had anticipated this possibility and came prepared. When I went to the 7 Eleven to get juice for mixing I also picked up a pack of condoms.

"Can I get a pack of Trojans, too?" I said to the cashier, an older black man with salt and pepper hair.

"I see we gettin' us some whukintooz," he said, smiling.

"I'm sorry?" I said.

"You know. Whukintooz," he repeated. Then he started singing. "Whukintooz, whukintooz, y'know ya gotta have dem whukintooz."

"Work with Jews?" I asked.

"No," he said. "Whuk-in-tools. You goin' ta whuk ain'cha? So you had to git de proper tools."

"Oh, working tools," I said. "I get it now."

I had no reason to expect the necessity of 'working tools', but when things finally did start getting hot and heavy I was glad I had done so.

"Do you have a condom?" she whispered, half-dressed and panting.

"Why, yes I do," I replied.

Things were going very well for a while, but then it got a little cumbersome and awkward. I don't know if you've ever had sex on a chaise lounge, but if you're exerting any kind of reasonable force you're going to fall off eventually. We knocked all kinds of stuff over, tore some curtains down. I was pretty intense.

But in the midst of it all, I somehow lost track of the condom.

I know, right? I couldn't find it anywhere. "Wait a minute," I said, half-panicked, "I think I lost something."

"What did you lose?" she asked innocently.

"I lost my goddamn working tools."

We looked around on the floor for ten minutes but it was nowhere to be seen. So, seeing as how it was nowhere to be seen, I suggested that she look where it could not be seen.

Unfortunately, it wasn't there either.

"I don't see it," she said from behind the bathroom door. "Oh well. What goes up must come down."

So, the question, of course, is where the hell did it go? A friend of mine told me the same thing happened to her once. She discovered it 'on her person' a week later. But ours, to the best of my knowledge, never turned up.

It's like I lost a sock in the laundry.

Anyways, if it's ever happened to you, and you're not shy, let me know so I won't feel like a complete moron.


Thanks for reading.

GOBAMA!

LISTEN TO MY MUSIC AND WATCH VIDEOS AT:
http://www.blackbroadway-online.com

Confession: Before I lost my virginity, I used to buy condoms and try them on in the bathroom. Am I the only one?