Full article here:
http://www.fourhourworkweek.com/blog/20 ... /#more-870So, cover the baby’s ears. I’m going to tell you something stunning and disgusting. Something you probably don’t want to hear. Ready? Most guys like pornography. And Santa Clause doesn’t exist. I’m sorry.
Here’s how the storage facility website sells the “donation” process:
“He [the donor/storer] is then shown to a private room where he can collect his specimen in a provided sterile cup.”
About as sexy as lethal injection, right?
Well, upon arrival, there were surprises in store. I was led to a cornucopia of porn DVDs around a secret corner. Right in front of a bunch of female lab technicians looking awkward. There was something for everyone in this motley selection. Norwegian juggler fetish? It would’ve been there. No expense was spared in covering all bases.
I grabbed a few titles (I’ll spare you the names) and headed to a small white room with a sliding door. I followed the lead of a quiet male Asian assistant in a white lab coat. He looked at his feet and departed with “please wash your hands when you finish.” I didn’t expect a call the next day.
The den of clinical sin was about the size of a hotel bathroom, with a paper-sheet-covered cot on the floor (yeah, baby!), a metal chair, a 13″ TV/DVD combo on a small stool, and a stack of magazines suspiciously adhered to one another.
So, I sat down, still quite content and ready to do my duty. A minute of “I can’t believe people want me to do this” and on goes the DVD. Then… my brain got sodomized.
See, I live in San Francisco, and — well — there are a lot of “alternative” sexual orientations. It also happens, sad times for Tim Ferriss, that Mr. Clean-Your-Hands was not good at matching DVDs to their cases.
I had already come to the realization that this room, with paper sheets in all their glory, had been used by hundreds of other donors. That alone required me to enter a state of focus reserved for Olympians and Iron Chef competitors. Then, I turn on the DVD and see two hairy boys doing something resembling wrestling. But not wrestling.
Second DVD, same story. Third time was the charm, but I was already supressing so many images and realities that it was like bending a spoon with my mind to get done what every guy has mastered by age 12.
Ah, Mr. Wash-Your-Hands. We will meet again, and I shall give you a judo chop.
Mentally prepare, gentlemen. It won’t be as easy as you think. These are tough, dangerous times. Good times to save your swimmies as cheap insurance.
And don’t forget to wash your hands.