This almost feels like it should be obligatory, Johnny Carson died and now we need to write about it. Well the truth is that I really didn’t watch Johnny all that much. My parents would watch and from time to time I would hide in the hallway and watch the show in the reflection of a window.
But it didn’t grab me all that much. Letterman and Leno have never really held my attention either. Periodically I’ll watch segments of their shows, but I haven’t watched a full episode, ever.
Carson was a good barometer for me for dating. There were women who spoke of the news and those that spoke of watching Carson. My experience was that if they didn’t mention watching Johnny they and I probably were very different people, but on the other hand, if they did watch Carson than there would be a good shot.
I am not sure why that is, I have always been interested in the news. Maybe it was just a matter of the women who liked Carson watched both. The one real memory that I have of his show is this.
I am staying over at my dates apartment. We have had a couple of drinks and she begins to kiss me. I think that this is nice and am trying to enjoy the moment when I realize that I can hear her kissing me. It is a noisy sound, kind of wet and sucking. In less than a second I can’t stop the noise from overwhelming all my senses. It is like I am kissing a car wash, it is wet and sloppy and there is water everywhere. I am drowning and desperate for air, a way to escape gracefully.
I don’t want to just stop cold turkey.She is a nice girl and I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but when she opened her mouth to kiss me I could feel her teeth on my cheek. Every man wants to say that the woman was so hot for him that “she tried to eat me” but none us want the female version of Hannibal Lechter.
For a few more minutes we roll around and than things change. I can hear Ed McMahon laughing as she reaches into my pants and grabs ahold of the situation. Instead of being pleased I am terrified. She has a grip on me that would put a vise to shame. Someone has convinced her that men cannot be truly satisfied unless you jerk on them like you are trying to pull the cork out of 200 year-old bottle of wine.
I am paralyzed. I can’t believe that her teeth are on my cheek and that she thinks that her hand is doing anything other than trying to manually castrate me. I rack my brain trying to determine what I am being punished for. “Please G-d, if you take her hand off of me and stop the carwash action I promise I’ll be good, I’ll donate money to charity, I’ll take the trash out without being asked, but in the name of all that is holy please remove this woman’s hand from my pal.”
My prayer goes unanswered and a grunt of pain is misunderstood to be pleasure. And now all I hear is freaking Johnny babbling about something. Alongside that there is canned laughter, is it inside my head or on the television I do not know.
What I know is that a week or two earlier I went to a class where the rav spoke to us about why masturbation might be preferable to premarital sex. Why it might be ok to engage in alternative behavior so that we can save ourselves for marriage.
And all I can think of is that I either need to finish in a hurry or find some other life saving measure. I am dying here. It is a new experience, I have never been so desperate to get away from a woman who was being so friendly to me. Once more I pray for help and this time my prayer is answered. The roommate unexpectedly comes home and I am able to make my escape.
As I walk out the door apologizing I hear Johnny talking and Ed laughing. And now I remember why I never watched his show again.