A Two-(Count 'em...Two) Penis Sunday

As I'm sure you'll not be surprised to hear, I have little (translation: no) experience with the male anatomy.

Which makes what happened on Sunday so much more fun.

On Sunday, Tiffany and I and our good friends Rob and Howard* saw two penises. They were attached to two men (which makes sense) whom we saw walking down the street in the Castro. The men were not together. And their appearances in our lives were separated by a few blocks and a couple of hours.

The first man we saw from behind.

"Is he... naked?" I gasped.

"Hmm," Robert mused. "No, I'm sure he has a sock on."

As I tried to visualize that, and scurried with Howard to see, a woman who had just passed the man, shook her head.

"No, he's got nothing on," she said.

We saw the second man after lunch (thankfully, not while eating lunch). He was sitting in a metal (brrrr!) chair at the corner of Castro and Market Streets surrounded by other (fully clothed) people sitting in metal chairs. He was reading a newspaper. Again, Howard and I scurried to see. In so doing, Howard bumped into a man and I fell into a pothole.

Once I behaved similarly when Tiffany and I were walking in New York and saw Bette Midler. I stared discreetly as we passed and then, ignoring Tiffany's pleas for me to stop, circled back around and passed Ms. Midler again. As I was about to make a second circle, Tiffany grabbed my coat sleeve and yanked me back to her.

In San Francisco, it's apparently no strange thing to see naked people. But Tiffany and I generally avoid the major festivals and parades where such nakedness occurs, and all of our friends keep their clothes on. In other words, in nearly three years in the city, no penis sightings.

Mind you, I'm not complaining.

I'd take Ms. Midler over the penises any day of the week.

And twice on Sunday.

*See previous post explaining these most-amazing of men.