CUMMING — Today is Valentine’s day, when couples present one another with cards, kind words, and kisses. More serious couples also buy gifts, which are carefully selected to leave the recipient neither freaked out nor pissed off. If all goes well, the night should end in something at least approximating sexual congress.
But not everyone in the city is now “coupled up.” Some are commitment-phobes, but others just lack the skills to present themselves favorably. Whatever the case, many of these people will attend bars and single’s parties tonight in hopes of matching up at the last minute.
In our Special Report, however, the Atlanta Banana has the untold story. We interview local bachelor Richard Palmer’s right hand, who says he’s preparing for the worst.
“Oh god, it’s gonna be terrible,” the right hand said, speaking via the American Sign Language alphabet. “I’ll be sore for a week this time, I bet. A week!”
The hand paused a moment to collect himself, then continued, “He thinks he’s going to meet someone willing to have sex tonight. He’s out of his mind. He goes out in Asics running shoes, for Christ’s sake. With white socks!”
“He’s going to thrash me within an inch of my life,” the hand then stated.
Mr. Palmer, however, was very positive about his chances.
“I’m actually looking forward to going out, you know? Single chicks are gonna be dying for it tonight. All I have to do is show up,” he smiled.
The right hand gestured in disgust here, “See that? That’s what I’m talking about. He has no prospects, no plans. And who has to pay the price? Me. Just me.”
When asked if the penis didn’t also have a role to play, the hand said, “Oh, that dick? Ha! He loves it. Ask him.”
“It’s true,” confirmed Mr. Palmer’s penis via a series of morse-code wiggles, “I don’t really care what happens, as long as I get to perform. Obviously I prefer a vagina, but any action is better than no action.”
Winking, the penis then added, “Know what I’m sayin’?”