Your Princess is in Another Castle Read Free

trusted friend to many a college student.  No doubt this purveyor of prophylactic penis protectors has abetted lost virginities, one-night stands, and a host of other sexual scenarios since it first accepted two quarters in exchange for a lab-tested latex condom. 
    Truthfully, I don’t want to reach such a point tonight.  I’m carrying around too much anxiety regarding the date itself to even think of actually being called upon for a sexual command performance.  Coming up with an acceptable explanation as to why it has taken this long for me to make it to my first time is a formidable task in and of itself.  But to Jessica, to Sonya, to the rest of the world, sex is a normal thing, a part of life.  If carrying a condom will help assimilate me into such a state of sexual normalcy, fifty cents is an adequate price to pay.         
    After double- checking to make sure I am alone, I place my two quarters into the machine and turn the handle.  No sounds to indicate gears are in motion readying for dispersion follow.  No condom appears.  It’s as if the condom machine had attained self-awareness and using the cold, emotionless computations only possessed by a computerized mind had simply calculated that the possibility of me having sex was so remote, if not altogether non-existent, that it was simply illogical for me to be given a condom. 
    That its reserve supply had best be saved for those truly in need, say an experienced, mightily endowed male who runs down to the lobby in a desperate bid to save the threesome he’s facilitated since to his horror he’s discovered that his own persona l supply of magnums has run out.  He would turn to the machine solely as a last resort, having previously been burned when the machine’s condom had been torn asunder by his mammoth girth, breaking it as if a young child had used it as a makeshift water balloon and hurled it at full force at a school chum.  All that is missing to confirm the machine’s sentience is for a circular red light to glow and a monotone yet sinister voice to deny my request with a declaration of I’m sorry, I’m afraid I can’t do that .  But sentient or not, I’m taking this as a bad sign.
                 
    Condom-less, I decide to seek sanctuary in the form of the local comic book store. I’ve got an hour or so to kill if I’m to head to Applebee’s twenty minutes early.  Only recently did this locale revert back to being allied territory, as a couple of months ago I foolishly turned myself into the pariah of The Vault by asking out its cute, genuinely nerdy and recently single store clerk Molly.  After her rejection, I outright avoided going into the store at all for the first month or so, even in the company of friends.  Only able to deflect their requests to go so many times, they finally confronted me and I had little choice but to explain that I had set ablaze the Bridge of Casual Friendship forged between Molly and me by asking her out.  Refuting the assertion that I was overreacting, I finally relented to returning to the store after learning that Molly had returned to school and was now only working weekends.
    Positive it is neither Saturday nor Sunday, I enter the store.  Sabrina, the girl now covering Molly’s old shifts, greets me with a friendly hello.  One to learn from his past mistakes, I give Sabrina a greeting in return, and a brief wave carefully executed to be done while I’m not actually looking at her.  In my eagerness to avoid creating uneasiness with Sabrina as I did with Molly, I realized that the best way to deal with her would be to interact with her as little possible, avoiding any unnecessary conversation while always being civil.  To be openly hostile could result in her complaining to the owner about a creepy customer which could result in him banning me from the store entirely, a wholly unacceptable situation. 
    I immediately head to the very back of the store, complimenting myself on