Bayonne Rayon Saturday, September 06, 2003

I took a shower, I got dressed, I bought groceries, I ate lunch--so I must be awake, right? Guess again! I feel sandy and sleepy on an otherwise glorious day. One of us is out of step, me or the weather.

Meanwhile, a Percy book brings on a Percy moment. From Love in the Ruins. A psychiatrist treating a patient.

But today he's got a new idea. If I'd been as sharp-witted and alert to small clues as a good psychiatrist should be, I should have guessed from the way his eye kept straying to my big bottom drawer. Here I keep my samples. The untreatable maladies of any age, reader, may be ascertained from the free samples a doctor receives. My desk drawer contains hundreds of suppositories, thousands of pills for treating terror, and dozens of rayon "training" organs for relieving male impotence.

None of these things works very well.

In short, my patient asked--for the first time and in a halting, scarcely audible voice--to be fitted with a rayon organ.

If he could not "achieve an adequate response" himself, he said--why doesn't he say "make love"--he could at least see that his wife did.

Again we cast an eye toward my bottom drawer, which did in fact contain a regular arsenal of male organs, the best of which are for some reason manufactured in Bayonne, New Jersey.

Hip hop hooray! We're famous. Of course, this is Percy's sci-fi novel, so I don't know if he's making that up. I'd investigate but am about to collapse from ennui and terror.

@ 1:31:00 PM,

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