Chapter 3: Dick Jones (FAQ)

So, you're probably wondering how I hooked up with Dick. I have no idea how. But at least I know when.

If you're just looking to put some more mayo on the ol' hand sandwich there, skip ahead -- I don't get any in this part.

I was out with this girl. I'd met her online. She was actually pretty cute -- better than I expected.
A feeling I knew wasn't mutual.

I knew as soon as the date was over I'd never see her again. We were in the park, and I'd just told a gross joke -- I was desperate. It was a penis joke. I was trying to show, through humor, how I wasn't like all those other guys. And by doing so I was exactly like all those other guys. Except that I suck at reading women and thus I don't know when it's time to bail out. And I'm telling this penis joke when we're alone, in the park downtown, at night. Could I have been any more skeezy?

So she suddenly stands up. Furious. Hands on her hips and everything.
"I swear to God," she said, "you men are all alike! It's always about that thing in your pants!"
Guilty as charged.
Then she said something weird. At the time I thought maybe she pitied me.
Now I realize she was cursing me. As in, putting a curse on me.

She said: "That Dick of yours is going to ruin your life."

And then she slapped me. So hard I saw stars. Everything went white.

When I came to, I was sprawled out on the ground next to the park bench. It was dawn. Damn, she hit me hard. Fucking Tae-Bo.

I picked myself up, went home, rubbed one out, and slept away the rest of the long weekend.

Next week at work, Bam! Wendy.

Fucked up, huh? Turning every man's dream into my nightmare. Giving me the ability to have any woman, but not letting me control it.

Shit happens.

The hard-science-fiction types and dungeonmasters are at this point probably salivating for the technical details of my, um, affliction. So I'll open it up for a little Q&A.

When does Dick take control, and how? Is it the same every time?
Dick's strength is sexual arousal. Mine is mental focus. It's a tug-of-war -- sometimes it's a slow slide, like when I've been reorganizing my porn to free up some disk space, or when I flip past a Baywatch marathon one too many times. (Sometimes I do shit like that just to torture Dick, knowing the only thing he's getting is a manual intervention. But I have to be careful, because every once in a while he'll get in a snit and force me outside, pants down, with Dick in hand, and then the neighbors call the cops, and the cleanup effort is an orgy of people I'd rather not know intimately -- I'm standing around while four dudes and an old lady are twitching and staining their drawers, and then I have to coach them one at a time so they're okay with it. Not difficult, just tedious and vaguely nauseating. Fortunately Dick does have a sense of self-preservation and he helps me out of whatever mess he gets me into, or it'd be a lot worse. I think he knows there's no pussy in prison.)

Other times -- quite a lot, actually -- I'll be distracted, and then out of the blue I'll see something that triggers a sexual thought, and Shazam! Dick reaches in and grabs the reins. And he's very good at steering me right into the thick of it immediately to cement his total control for as long as he can keep it up. So I generally don't fight him on it, or even try to direct him to something a little less intense. Dick knows what Dick wants, and what Dick wants, Dick gets.

When do you get control back?
When Dick's satisfied. Sometimes I think Dick only lets go because I'm better at damage control. Dick's not subtle.

How strong is Dick? What's Dick's "range?"
The hornier, the stronger, the farther. One time after a volleyball match up at State -- a buddy at work dragged me along because his little sister was on the team; I don't know what the fuck I was thinking -- and she had a wardrobe malfunction on the last serve. Ten minutes later, Dick walked me right into the women's locker room, had me drop trou, and everyone in the room immediately came to attention, lined up, and waited their turn until Dick had shagged every one rotten. Boyfriends and parents kept coming in wondering what the holdup was, and the door's thirty feet from where I was going at it, but they'd always lock eyes with me, freeze up, and then start watching as a smile spread across their face. Now that's a far-reaching influence. Apparently Dick likes volleyball.

I slept fourteen hours straight after that one, and Dick left me alone for almost a week.

How do you know what Dick is thinking? Does he give you orders? Can you hear Dick talk? Can anyone else hear him?
No, it's not like that. I can just feel Dick's presence. I know when Dick's awake, and I know when Dick wants something; the specifics are usually self-evident based on what he makes me do. The only time Dick really talks is when he makes me talk -- and then he says some pretty stupid shit.

What's it like getting into a girl's head while you're doing it with her?
I wouldn't know. I can't read minds. It's a write-only function. Remember, it's Dick's ability, not mine, though I guess Dick knows enough to listen to my suggestions, especially when it comes to cleaning up Dick's mess. I've tried to "listen" before -- what guy hasn't wondered what the fuck is going on in a woman's head? -- but the only thing I ever "heard" was Dick. It's probably just male arrogance -- Dick doesn't give a shit what anybody else thinks.