Heartbroken in college, I thought I would do anything.
I thought I had the balls to do the extreme,
but my tongue wrote a check my body wouldn’t cash.
I’m just glad nobody asked me to.

We were working on a movie
and, as college kids are wont to do on a tight schedule,
we were thinking of other projects to take on.

“It’s snowing so hard!”
“We could try a sketch about a naked man
walking in the snow grumbling and mumbling
until someone asks him why he’s naked.
He’ll look down and then say, ‘Women!’
and stalk off!”
“I’ll do it!” I said, “I’ll be the guy.”
Arthur looked at me, “Alright.”
“When do we film?” Paul asked.

We never followed up.
I certainly never asked about it again.
If I’d thought about it at all, I would have asked how I wouldn’t have freezed,
walking naked in the cold.
I would have asked how I wouldn’t have been arrested for whatever obscenity laws
Binghamton, NY would want to cite me for.
I would have asked how many folks would laugh and point at my micro genitalia due to shrinkage.
None of it occurred to me in the first instant, when I volunteered.
Only in the second, after my mouth had gotten the better of me.

I have spoken carelessly many times since then.
Many many times.

Some probably worse than that.