EXCERPT FROM BALL: A TRAUMEDY by Brian Lobel

 

The Sperm Bank, or,
The Task at Hand

 

People always think that when it's their turn to go to the sperm bank, they'll be really funny about the whole thing. You know, cracking jokes, loudly faking orgasms, etc. But it's not like that. All you want to do once you get there is leave. I sat down in the waiting room and the first thing that I noticed was the decor. Turquoise and silver Navajo designs and wood paneling. How rustic! How masculine! How weird that there are only women working here.

I was convinced that men were kept secret somewhere in the building - little Keebler elves, hard at work comparing semen samples - who were kept hidden away, lest the poor, impotent clientele accidentally think of a man while masturbating. Thank god they're so insightful as to only employ decent, attractive blonds.

After a brief welcome, I was taken down the hall to get an HIV test. I did not need an HIV test. “I don't have HIV” I said confidently. “Well, one can never be sure and if we are handling your semen we have to know…” She wasn't gargling with my semen or washing her hair with my semen, she was freezing it. Again, I repeated, “I don't have AIDS, I'm pretty sure.” “One can never be sure.” They know you're a virgin Brian. They're laughing at your virginity. Virgin! Virgin! Virgin! “And besides, it's protocol.” She said besides as if she knew I was just a big virgin just from looking at me. I HATE YOU. But I put out my forearm, closed my eyes, and let them poke me - I hate getting poked.

Following that completely superfluous blood draw and tour of the facility, which featured the wall of photos containing hundreds, if not thousands, of adorable babies whose births were facilitated by the miracle of cryogenic freezing, I was immediately whisked upstairs to...

ROOM A. ( “ Let's Get it On” plays- lights bump to deep red) I felt like I had been transported into some low budget homemade fetish porn. Soft, musty lighting. Piles of Playboys with the pages ripped out, and one huge, sexy, leather chair. So, I'm sitting in the sexy chair. Fondling the leather. Feeling right at home - until I realized ( Music stops) that hundreds of skanky-ass grown men had masturbated in this very same chair. (Lights return to normal) I immediately decided that the collecting of Brian Lobels would be done completely standing. That was fine with me, I was used to doing it in my freshman dorm showers - you know, where everyone hopes they're the only ones who do it, but there's basically a light film of college freshman all over the shower floor. Thank God for shower shoes.