BALLPARK FRANKS - 8/3/17
So, I was a horny teenager. It wasn't easy for me. I mean, I was hilarious and well liked towards the end of my high school career but I was fat, awkward, and I would rather die than let anyone know how much it sucked that I would NEVER have a boyfriend. I mean, I didn't lose my virginity until well after graduating. So as you'd rather not dare to imagine, I'm an expert masturbator by now.
This didn't come without trial and error. One of my first toys was a bottle of nail polish, and that did not end well. And do you remember those squiggle pens? The ones that spiraled around to make your writing all wacky? That worked pretty well but I wasn't made of money and batteries aren't cheap, especially for a teenager.
As exciting as the wide world of clitoral stimulation may be, I couldn't help but wonder. What would a real live penis feel like? I'd seen a few, but this was back in the days of dial up and as much time as I spent downloading porn after my parents went to bed, I probably ended up with 5 dicks in my repertoire before dsl was a thing.
My parents were going away for the day. We had some family in Tijuana, but my mom owned a thrift store at the time and she had to be back early the next day in time for opening . Still that gave me a whole day and a whole night alone, in the house, to commit any perverse act my heart desired.
We were a Ballpark Franks family. They were always on sale at the Top Value and after all, they plump when you cook 'em! I had a few hotdogs, put in one of my tried and true staples into the VCR -Sexaholics, stolen from my older brother, and the first time I saw double penetration mind you. It really shaped my tastes in pornography now that I'm thinking about it but that's a story for a different day- anyway
I just went to town. I couldn't stop. I never had the opportunity to lady jerk naked on my couch before. It was a whole new way to watch porn. I ran my squiggle pen clean out of battery.
But I wanted something more.
I remembered the Ballparks in the fridge. They kinda looked like dicks, right? I strode to the kitchen, naked, confident in my auto erotic majesty. The franks were mine to do with what I pleased.
Hot dogs aren't dicks. I know this now. I've gained a wealth of experience with male genitalia in the past few ahem months or so and that's probably the truest fact I've taken from it. Hot dogs. Dicks. Not the same.
The smell was actually pretty similar to what I was used to when disrobing after a long day of comedy sports. A solid umami mixed with patriotism and poverty. I was fully erect for the 6th time that day. And then, conflict. I just couldn't get the darn things in there. My business kept rejecting them like an automatic door with a malfunction. She even managed snap a few of them in half, spitting them out faster than I could catch 'em. One of them even managed to fly all the way to the other side of the room and under the end table where we kept the plastic flowers.
I managed to make it through half a family pack of franks by the time I heard the racket at the back door. My parents had NOT taken my brother with them on their trip after all.
I scrambled to find my clothes, the remote control and all the hotdog fragments I could before rushing silently into my room. I nearly had a heart attack.
The next day, my mom asked me if I had friends over. If you're from a Latinx family, having friends over is a huge no no. I confidently said no, because, for once, I was telling the truth- I hadn't had anyone over. "Oh yeah? So you and Javie just ate 10 hotdogs in one day?"
I didn't know what to say. I was definitely grounded. It didn't even occur to me until I went back to my room, imprisoned for the weekend- Why the shit wouldn't I just use a cucumber?
