My tennis racquet is your penis

Hi Scott,

Chris told me that you were in town. Unfortunately I'm going out of town tomorrow so I won't be able to see you. But I thought I would still take the opportunity to tell you that my tennis racquet is your penis.

I don't know why I didn't tell you this before. You would think that you would be the first person I would tell. But you weren't. I told my mother first. She called last week and I told her then. After I told her, she asked who you were and why your penis was my tennis racquet. I told her that you were a friend of Chris' and that you had stayed on my couch one time but declined to use my pocket vagina. This helped because she knows who Chris is, but she didn't know what a pocket vagina was so I had to spend some time explaining that to her. Once she said she understood what a pocket vagina was, she repeated the second part of her question, which was why my tennis racquet was your penis. I told her that I was playing tennis one day and I looked down and said to myself "Holy cow, my tennis racquet is Scott's penis." And it's been that way ever since. My mother told me that the story didn't really explain why your penis is my tennis racquet, but she let it go because although she said she understood the pocket vagina thing I could tell that she really didn't and she wanted to change to subject.

You should know that I take very good care of my tennis racquet/your penis. There is a special case for it and everything. I'm very careful with it because I've had it since I was fifteen and I really like playing with it. That isn't some sort of masturbation pun; only you can masturbate with my your penis/my tennis racquet. I use it to play tennis. You use it for penis stuff. I think that's the way it works.

I'm actually kind of surprised that you haven't contacted me first telling me that your penis is my tennis racquet. I mean, you live with your penis/my tennis racquet every day. I only play tennis in the summer and fall because I play squash in the winter. To be clear, your penis is not my squash racquet. It's my tennis racquet. I just wanted you to know that.

Did it never occur to you say something? Or did you not realize? I can understand that; I only realized my tennis racquet was your penis a few weeks ago. Actually, I should have assumed that you didn't realize it, otherwise you probably would have contacted me. I like to think that we have the kind of relationship where you can do that now without Chris necessarily being the middle man. I'm not saying that we're really close, but I hoped that if you were showering one day or looking at yourself in the mirror and you realized "Wait a second...my penis is S.H.'s tennis racquet!" that you could e-mail me to tell me. That's what I'm doing with you now and I feel pretty comfortable with it.

To be honest, I'm not really doing anything differently now that I know that my tennis racquet is your penis. It's like finding out your birthday is actually a day later than the day you've been lead to believe. If you told me my birthday was on October 23 instead of October 22, I would realize that something was different, but I couldn't really tell you what specifically. I'm the same person with the same name and the same life, except now my birthday is on October 23. It really wouldn't have an impact on me in any substantial way. It's the same thing with my discovering that my tennis racquet is your penis.

Similarly, I don't know if my tennis racquet being your penis should change your life either. Or at least I don't think you should let it change the way you think about things. You're obviously a lot closer to your penis/my tennis racquet that I am to my tennis racquet/your penis so I can see the temptation to let this skew things. But, again, I don't think it should. Really, nothing is different. So don't worry, just embrace it as the way things are. So much impacts our day to day lives; it seems that any new information we receive forces us to change something. You could really look at this as something that doesn't change anything. I think there's comfort in that.

Again, sorry I can't see you this weekend. I hope you're doing really well and that school and work are moving along nicely. Are you going to bring your girlfriend here at some point? I'll bet she's lovely.

All the best,
S.H.