the day i fucked a tripod

FROM DEEP IN THE ARCHIVES

I'd seen him around the bar a number of times, occasionally we'd chat. One hot and humid evening I was low on cash and feeling voracious, he started buying me drinks.

Back at his house, we're kissing heavily and peeling clothing.
I pull off my shirt, he drops his pants to the floor.

The man had a prosthetic leg.

I say nothing and just lay there - shocked, naked and staring. The look on his face said, "Say something. Say anything," but I wasn't there to talk nor did he offer a warning. Quietly my thoughts raced by (eg.'he walks pretty normally with that thing... I wonder how much it cost him?").

A short while later I had almost forgotten about robo-leg when suddenly he stopped, leaned over and started messing with it.

He took the fucking leg off and says,
"I get better leverage with the stump."
OMFG.

He wasn't lying, that stump could create some angles. However at that point, all I could think about was the story Good Country People by Flannery O'Connor. I so badly wanted to grab that crazy contraption, shove it in my suitcase full of bibles, and run.