During weekdays, I’m usually the first one to step out of the house. Even though my pops wakes up an hour before I do, I’m the first one to step outsde of the house since I sleep in an outside room and have to go into the main house to take a shower. We live in a “corner house” and our house is situated in a somewhat busy intersection. When we first moved there back in ’94, the people there had the habit of throwing any ol’ shit into our house, I don’t know how, but my mother managed to get them to stop but, once in a while, some drunk person throws his empty bottles in our yard, some little rascal would throw their sweet wrappers in our yard etc. It’s just one of those things we’ve gotten used to.
It amazes me how, something as trivial as picking up shit that people threw into your yard could bring back memories you had totally forgotten. This Monday morning, I woke at the usual time, and while I was walking towards the house I noticed that some asshole had thrown his used condom in our yard, disgusting! And when I think about it, it is utterly disrespect ’cause, our house is situated in a busy area, even during midnight, it is relatively busy so there no way that person could have used that condom there, chances are, he was busy elsewhere and he walked all that way carrying that condom with the intention of throwing it in our. Maybe he was trying to send a message to me, Lord knows I’ve made my fair share of enemies in my ‘hood. but I digress.
While I was picking up that nasty used condom, with the help of lots and lots of Klenex, I had a flashback to one of the many weird things that happened in my childhood. I was about nine or ten, the three of us were playing football in the dusty streets of my ‘hood. Back then, the Health department hadn’t informed people on the proper disposal of condoms (or maybe they had and I was too young to notice), it was year or so after the historic ’94 elections and people were optimistic as shit and we all know that optimistic people screw like it’s going out of style. It was pretty common to come across used condoms lying on the floor. Now my friend, eh…. we shall call him twankle, was one inquisitive mofo, he was the type of person who would wanted to try anything and everything just to see how it feels, that didn’t always turn out good as we are about to see.
We were playing football in the middle of the street, and an old lady chased us away, something about how we were in danger of being knocked over by a speeding car or somesuch, we decided to go play down in the open veld near the river that served as a border between my hood and Tladi, another neighbourhood in Soweto. while we were playing, we stumbled upon a used condom, we were not old enough to grasp the concept of condoms but having “accidentally” read health information pamphlets, we had an idea what condoms were used for. Twankle, being the most curious of us three, decided to pick the condom with his bare hands. He stared at it, tilted it to the left, to the right, as if he was some sort of an inspector and he proceeded to do the unthinkable, he emptied the the content of the condom, swallowed the icky stuff, we didn’t know what the mucusy thing was but we knew it was nasty and we all went like eew and teased him the whole day about swallowing the yucky stuff in the condom. it wasn’t until about two or three years later when we both realized that, Twankle had actually swallowed some other guy’s Jizm but by then, Twankle had already moved to the surburbs.
Picking up the used condom in our yard, I wondered if twankle still remebered that day or if, to protect his sanity his brain has deviced a mechanism to help him forget and if he still remebers does the fact that he once swallowed a stranger’s jism haunt him everyday, I guess I’ll never know but there’s one thing I learned from the flashback to my childhood, sometimes, curiousoty isn’t such a good thing.