Normally, when you hear stories about getting caught masturbating, it’s pretty horrifying. Stories like, a mom banging on the door to the bathroom screaming, “dinner’s ready,” and the door accidentally opening. Then, the story generally discusses the awkwardness of having to fight through the uncomfortable silence over dinner (which just happened to be meat and potatoes.) My personal experiences, include the time my little sister got up in the middle of the night to get water, and caught me lotiony handed in the living room stroking it to the Golden Girls. Or, the time my dad accidentally walked in on me, and decided it was a good time to tell me about the “birds and the bees” (or what my dad referred to as the “Beaver and the Snake.”)
I am sure you have heard a thousand funny stories of people getting caught Jingling the Jewelry, but none I am sure are as awkward as what I am about to tell you. I was in China to perform on a very large television show. Along with a nice paycheck, they gave me a swanky hotel; complete with the traditional Chinese breakfast of cheerios mixed with fruit loops. Now based off the breakfast, you might think that the hotel was like any hourly rate place you might see Eliot Spitzer at, but honestly this was ridiculously nice. My room came complete with flat screen TV, computer, candles, and Asian condoms. I always joked the Asian condoms were smaller than normal condoms, but they fit me just fine.
It was like the Chinese version of the Hilton. Although, at this hotel you could buy Paris Hilton’s porno for $1.99 (thank you black market porn.) The bathroom in the room was top notch also. It came complete with lotions, combs, toothbrushes and a heated toilet seat. Now, I am fully aware that I might not have stayed at the nicest hotels in my career, but in 10 years of travel, I had never seen the feature this bathroom had… It came complete with a phone next to the toilet! I thought to myself what a brilliant idea! Finally a bathroom designed for the person who has to conduct their business, while doing their business. A bathroom, only a dead Elvis himself would walk into and say, “Hey, where was this when I needed it.”
Writing that joke, I had to look up what other famous people have died on the toilet. Today, I bring you my top 5 people who have died on the old slam-dunk ring:
- Lenny Bruce (A funny man and a sad death)
- Elvis (A sad man and a funny death)
- Jim Morrison (Not really funny or sad)
- Orville Redenbacher (I bet his shits had a lot of corn)
Of course, the most famous of all bringing in the top #5 is; you know him, you love him George the II. Yes, GEORGE the II, king of Great Britain, and Ireland from 1727 all the way to his tragic death in 1760. Rumor has it that he died of a ruptured aneurysm of the aorta, but I think he faked his death, and is still releasing albums today.
Back to the story… Knowledge unknown to me at the time, and pivotal to the story, is apparently the phone does not go to a landline, but to the front desk. It is used only for emergency’s that happen in the bathroom. Kind of like a “help, I’ve shatten, and I can’t get up button.”
So, my performance on the TV show went very well, and after a few drinks got back to my hotel pretty late. Feeling good, I cleaned myself up with a shower, and got ready for a celebratory jerk before I went to bed. What can I say; I am kind of a finicky masturbator. The right mood is as important to my masturbation success as much as weed was to Al Gore when he invented the Internet; or heroin, cocaine, ketamine, ecstasy and booze are to an Amy Winehouse overdose. Nothing weird though, just small things: like the light has to be out, and I like to play R&B music. I actually never listen to R&B music, unless I am getting sexual. It’s like, “Where everybody knows your name” to Cheers, whenever it comes on, Shelley Long appears, and there is occasion laughter.
I lit the candles: had my soft R&B playing, had my lotions lined up, and to top it all off invested the $1.99 for the Paris porn; because I love it when girls text during sex (or as my friend the M-Gap calls it Sexting.) This is where the story takes a turn for the worst. Apparently, in my pre-spank shower I must have knocked the “Bathroom emergency phone” off of its hook. The lobby had called the room a few times, but I did not hear it ring because I am like the Michael Jordan of bludgeoning the beefsteak, I can’t be raddled. If I am launching the hand shuttle, you could tell me aliens just landed; and they were all horny Angelina Jollie look-a-likes, looking for single curly haired comedians named Matt, to have copious amounts of sex with, and that information would never reach my brain.
When a bathroom emergency phone is knocked off the hook, and the guest does not respond to calls, proper protocol; is to inform the police and paramedics. I don’t know why they have to involve government officials, but I am glad they did because without them, this story would not be nearly as funny. So they knocked profusely on my door, and of course I did not hear them because when R Kelly is bumping I am a pumping. So, I am in the middle of doing some sloppy sign language, when all of a sudden the hotel clerk opens the door. She flashes on the lights, and in runs 2 paramedics wearing white gloves, and 3
policemen with guns drawn. I opened my eyes, and for a second thought it was part of my weird fantasy. Once it dawned on me they were real, I froze. Most people’s natural reaction would be to jump, and cover them selves with whatever was around. As for me, I just lay there staring at them with confusion like I just watched Memento.
Surprising enough, they just stood there staring right back. They were acting like it was the first time this has ever happened (insert awkward laugh.) I guess, I should take that as a compliment though. That at the site of my body, they didn’t run away screaming like Godzilla was attacking. They just stood in marvel (another awkward laugh.) Here we were; the police, with their guns drawn, and me with my gun drawn (so to speak,) at a crossroads, looking at each other like whoever stared the longest won a prize. After about a solid minute of awkward silence, in an attempt to save face, and follow through on his call of duty, one of the policmen said, “Mr. Baker, is everything OK?” I guess it is all anyone could say in that scenario. Once the words came out of his mouth, they all quickly turned around, and ran out of the room. I just sat their shell-shocked (still; disturbingly, with a woody.)
I guess it is not all that bad to get caught lynching the lizard, because the next day I found two extra bottles of lotion in my bathroom. That is my story about getting caught masturbating by the Chinese Government.