The Important Handshake vs. Phantom Erections

Something about a job interview gives me the shivers. And the jitters. And the heeby-jeebies. And an erection.

Seriously. That was there to make you laugh, but I'm also referring to the very real problem that young men face on a day-to-day basis. In my case, multiple times a day, and in very, very unanticipated circumstances. Everyone (that has a penis or reasonable facsimile) can relate to the oft-encountered, never-welcome... mmmmmmmmboner during a high school class. We all understand how quickly this can escalate from a mildly uncomfortable position into a cripplingly embarrassing free-to-the-public sideshow. We all have our methods of covering up our jean- or khaki-boners (I went to a middle school that enforced a dress code policy, as did many of my friends, hence the "khaki-boner"). Many of us wore extra large hoodies so as to put one's hands in one's pockets and pull it down over the veritable "pitched tent". Should this be effectively countered by a call from the teacher to approach the chalkboard, proceed to spew ridiculous excuses such as:
"My legs hurt."
"My hands hurt."
"My hands are numb."
"My hands no longer work."
"My hands are allergic to chalk."
"Chalk is against my religion."
"As you well know, chalk once murdered my family and I think it's really rude of you to even mention chalk to me, let alone try to get me to use it for your stupid equation, you insensitive ass."
"I have a previous engagement with another teacher."
"I have jury duty."
"I have doo-doo duty."
"I would love to but I absolutely must wash my hair."
"I'm tired."
"I have an erection."

These are all tried and true ways of getting out of a humiliating walk to the front of the classroom, displaying your clutch for all of your peers to see. But there are worse scenarios for one to be trapped in while sporting a stiffy or a semi. You may be hard-pressed to think of one quickly, at least not before you continue reading. Hurry up and continue reading, because you probs could actually think of a worse sitch than the one I'm about to speak about but then that would make you better than I think you are and it would take you out of the writing for a bit, rendering your attitude toward this blog and its writing a bit more on the negative side. Stop reading my useless ranting and read the good part. Ah, what am I doing? Oh, here's the rest. Carrying on, then. One example of an unwanted surprise was when a young lady approached me at the San Francisco Amoeba and started asking me about the records I was holding for purchase. Of course, my immediate reaction was to start talking her ear off about the bands, giving her way more information than she could have possibly wanted. Shortly after I started yammering, though, a rather swift erection occurred. I don't think she noticed, as luckily I was carrying a stack of LP's around with me, but I was nevertheless embarrassed and ended the conversation quickly. An even worse situation that yours truly is well-acquainted with is to be unemployed in a new city. Even worse than that is being unemployed in a new city with few calls for interviews. And finally, the worst situation of all: being unemployed in a new city in which there are few calls for interviews and chronic hard-ons during the interviews. You read correctly. My interviews often include an uninvited "bonus". As far as I can tell, it has nothing to do with the interviewer. It seems also to have nothing to do with the situation or the environment being sexual or "naughty". I just have a slight nervous disposition, especially when my financial security depends on the next 20 minutes to an hour. This nervousness plays merry hell with the old reproductive system for some reason or another. I become erect and the harder I try to get it to go away, the more it sticks around, like it was invited to hang around for brunch. I, in fact, did not invite it out to brunch. I've been rather broke lately and have not even been treating my close friends to meals, so why would I do this for my penis? I wouldn't. There's your answer. But he often insists on hanging about and making a mess of things. Not a real mess. Not like a sticky one. This, fortunately, has not yet happened (knock on wood... ha, wood). So far, it has only distracted me from fooling my potential employer into thinking I'm a happy, extroverted individual and renders me somewhat immobile. An exit strategy is sometimes required as well if the bonus lasts until good-byes and fine-to-meet-yous are spoken. If you are not holding a folder with extra copies of your resume or perhaps some informative paperwork the interviewer has handed you, the situation may very well be considered botched at that point and when shown to the door, turn your front side away from the person conducting the interview, tell them how much you appreciate their time (without looking at them or turning your penis anywhere in their general direction), and rush quickly for the door. One could argue that since the interview is done and over and your escape will obviously make you look awkward and quite possibly even shady, your job opportunity is crushed and that you could have a little fun with the erection in this professional setting for awkwardness. Perhaps leave the boner out in the open while shaking your interviewer's hand. Sexual advances would be inappropriate but a wide, excited grin and an apparent oblivious-ness to your "tee-pee" could provoke any number of unpredictable reactions. Please feel free to use this idea, as long as you inform me of the results.
I am happy to report that I have since found steady work and do not have to deal with "interview-rections". At least for a short while.
Life has been moving along rather swimmingly. I am still poor, but will soon be back on top of my financial game. I have been dating recently, which is the most abrupt, awkward, life-changing event that's ever happened to yours truly. I should have seen it coming though. With my greasy hair, low self-esteem and bedroom walls painted so sloppily they could double as Tristeza album art, someone was bound to gravitate toward me. My home life is awesome. My roommates are all wild fucking people and we have to actually keep a tally sheet on the fridge to see who has been doing the most ridiculous-cool things (ie: dodging public transit officers, getting tickets for smoking weed in parking garages, wearing nothing but aprons during dance parties, etc.). I'm sure there's too much to tell you, but the good news is my close friend that you probs know from nosleepmachine.tumblr.com has started writing (though he is nowhere near finished with his visual arts habits) and you can find that at notabook.tumblr.com. This will probably soon be filled with stories about roommates and friends, as well. I hope everything is awesome with you guys that read this. I appreciate the recent verbal and written kicks in the ass to keep writing. I have been writing, just much slower is all, as my life is suddenly filling up with cool projects and people. I will keep you updated on the serious stuff, but will also never cease to reveal the embarrassing stuff. I know it's what you come back for. That's OK. It's what I come back for, too.

Out of the soup entirely, but still soaking wet,
Craig