Pumped Up

There are a million reasons why I'm glad I'm not a man--ear hair, the draft, the need to occasionally adjust one's testicles, the unspoken obligation to kill bugs--just to name a few.

But last week I was reminded of another reason: Spontaneous erections at the gym while working out with your guy friend.

That has got to suck. You're lifting weights, sweating with your homeboy, being generally macho and BOOM. Erection.

I read about it while studying for the personal trainer course--that it's totally normal and not sexual in nature. It's just the combination of blood pumping and endorphins flowing and testosterone raging, and then...hello penis!

And you know the internal dialogue that has got to be going on when that happens to a guy.

Is it noticeable? Does he see it? Oh man, I think he saw it. Does he think it's because of him? Please don't let him think it's because of him. Does he think I'm gay? Not gay. NOT GAY. Baseball...grandma...fat chicks...fat dudes... WHY WON'T IT GO AWAY?

And then for the ultimate in awkward situations, he might get to go stand naked with his erection and his friend in the gang showers (gang showers: yet another reason I'm glad to be a girl).

It's stuff like this (and farting) that lets me know God has a sense of humor. He could have made it so things only power up when necessary, or at least designed it in such a way that the whole world wouldn't notice, but no. He decided it would be pretty awesome if they occasionally just spring up in public without warning, and are impossible to hide.

It's almost a fair trade off for periods and child birth.