Part Three: How To Sample Sperm.
1. As in any test, preparation is key. Since this was going to be a formal count, it should be taken at a point where the inventory is at its highest, therefore a few days of abstinence is highly recommended.
2. Sperms are highly prone to hypothermia. They are accustomed to a warm and moist environment, and begin to die off en masse when temperatures drop. The nurse told Schwimmer he had a window of thirty minutes to get them to the Lab. She was not amused when Schwimmer suggested popping the receptacle in the microwave on low for a few minutes if he felt he was running late.
3. They may be stored in any clean, glass jar. The Nurse was not amused when Schwimmer suggested a mayonnaise jar. She recommended a baby food container. She was likewise unamused when Schwimmer asked what flavor he should choose.
4. A second party may be recruited for the collection event. The Nurse was not amused when Schwimmer asked about the efficacy of “spitting” the sample into the jar. Nor was his wife.
5. Dumb jokes should be avoided – these health care professionals will not laugh, probably because they hear the same ones over and over.
His wife lost no time making an appointment at the lab, located at a nearby hospital, for later in the week. They calculated the swiftest route and reasoned that even if the traffic lights were all red, he could still reasonably expect to deliver the goods with ten minutes to spare. Schwimmer arranged to take Thursday off from work so could concentrate all his efforts on a good showing for “S-Day”. The next six days of abstinence was no real hardship – from the very moment this project had begun his sex drive had shriveled like a slug in a salt lick. Sex for reproduction aroused the hell out of his wife, but the barnyard quality of it turned Schwimmer off completely. His wife tried to bring the topic up a few times but he refused to discuss it. By Tuesday she began to fret, but he assured her that he would be able to complete the task. Schwimmer knew that, from age thirteen on, he had pumped out enough seminal fluid to fill a small wading pool and he was confident that on “S-Day” he would manage to muddle through somehow.
S-Day arrived with dark, lowering, late-winter clouds and a light rain. Snow banks steamed in the drizzle, exhaling a dank, ground-hugging mist. His wife left for work at eight with the drop-off scheduled for her lunch hour. She would pick him up at twelve-thirty. Schwimmer ate a big breakfast and tried to think sexy thoughts.
He began his preparations at eleven-thirty; set up a TV table beside his easy chair, upon which he placed the baby food jar (strained peas – his wife had originally chosen mashed carrots but Schwimmer vetoed it because of the unfortunate visual image it spawned), the most recent Victoria’s Secret catalogue and a bottle of hand lotion. At noon he sat and began leafing through the pages, trying to decide between nighties or undies as his primary source of inspiration. He had just settled on nighties when the phone rang.
“Have you – um – started yet?” His wife asked.
“Well, no. But it’s going to be tough if you keep calling. It kinda breaks the concentration, you know.”
His wife gave an embarrassed giggle. “Oh, sorry. I wasn’t thinking. You’re going to start, right now, though, right? With the catalogue?”
“Yeah, I just chose nighties.”
“Really? What color?”
“Jesus! I’m not looking to wear one!”
“Yeah, I know that, but if you find one that works best for – you know – tell me which one it is. I’ll buy it.”
“I hope it’s red.”
“Because I look good in that color, dummy!”
“Look, I don’t know what color it’s going to be. I haven’t started yet!”
“Well when you do, make sure she’s a blond, like me.”
“You know – the girl in the red nightie.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. I don’t who it’s going to be! It may even be more than one.”
There was a pause as his wife digested the comment. “Okay, I understand. But try to make them all blondes.”
Schwimmer gave up. “Okay, blondes. Love you.”
Four brunettes and one redhead later, Schwimmer was ready to pop. It had not been easy, he had never responded well to pressure. But the images in the magazine and six days of abstinence eventually put the lead back into his pencil and after a time and he felt release imminent. He reached for the baby food jar and went immediately flaccid.
“Damn!” he muttered. The spell had been broken.
He went back to work and quickly reachieved lift off status. Another grab for the jar.
This wasn’t working. A new approach was going to have to be employed. He placed the jar in his lap and continued on. This was a risky maneuver because he was going to have to just aim as best he could and hope for at least a partial bull’s-eye. The target was fairly small. But Schwimmer was no amateur at this activity and felt fairly comfortable he would manage it.
Brunette in Black Teddy, Brunette in Black Teddy, Brunette in Black Teddy, BRUNETTE IN BLACKTEDDYYYYYYYyyyyyyy……….
He hit the jar dead center.
But now the clock was ticking…