Once a pun a time

Sigmund Freud wants to go to Bangkok. The name of the city just sounds nice to him. Lying in bed, he says the word over and over again. Bang-kok. He can’t stand it anymore. Day after day, Bang-kok. Finally he decides to go to Bangkok. He tongues a piece of almond wedged between his teeth.

He packs his bowling pin, and two thousand Deutsche Marks. He is a little nervous. At the gate, they ask for Sigmund’s ID, which irritates him. “They already checked my id at security,” he says. “I need your passport,” the agent says. “I have a bowling pin in my carry-on bag,” Sigmund says. The bowling pin is relevant to this story.

“Passport please sir,” the agent says. “I am Austrian,” Sigmund says, handing his passport over. “Thank you,” the agent says, “we’ll be boarding rows 1 through 10 momentarily.” Sigmund sighs, sits down next to a young girl, and opens his book. “Do you read Jung?” Sigmund asks the girl. “No, I’m mature,” she answers.

The flight is unremarkable. Sigmund looks out the window the entire flight. The young girl who doesn’t like Jung is 14 years old, the legal age in France. “If I were a pervert,” Sigmund thinks to himself, “id teabag her.” Sigmund falls asleep and has a dream where he’s eczema. He sneezes and a bunch of puss comes out of his head. The dream ends, like they always do.

The plane lands in two jerks with the sound of vacuum. He undoes his seatbelt before anyone. He is the first one standing. He gets his carry-on bag and grabs it tightly. His heart beats faster. The air in Thailand is humid. Sigmund takes a cab to a hotel. Bang-kok. He enters his hotel room, a bulge in this throat. His heart is beating very fast.

He lowers his pants and undergarments. He opens his carry-on bag, removes the bowling pin, and inserts the handle in his ass. He turns in front of the mirror until the light from the window catches the bottom of the pin. He can feel the pulse of his erect penis down his left leg. It all happened so quick: the packing, the flight, the penetration. "Anal is a metaphor, anus is the real thing,” he says quietly to the mirror.

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