I’ll never forget the moment when what began as an only slightly abnormal amount of itching accelerated into constant torture and the horrifying realization dawned that I had crabs.
“I have an STD,” I kept thinking to myself as I trudged to the Tang Center (Berkeley’s student health facility) to seek treatment. Shampooing with the special lotion wasn’t so bad, nor was vacuuming or changing the sheets. Washing every article of clothing, on the other hand, was a bit daunting, but it just led to the beginning of my long-term love affair with fluff-and-folds.
Over the next couple of years, something of a sexually hyperactive period in my life, I got crabs several more times. I’m very hairy and consequently, an ideal host for the enterprising little parasites. Back then, it seemed I couldn’t leave the house without catching crabs, but it was manageable, a minor inconvenience.
At the time, I was also reading a lot of 1970s gay fiction, where crabs made frequent cameos, and a lot of my friends had dealt with it, too, so the stigma largely dissipated, although it was no fun to call a guy I liked to inform him he needed a treatment.
I kept a bottle of Rid under the sink and was always prepared. The worst part was the paranoia every time I felt the slightest itch down there. I would spend hours combing through my pubes, searching for a crab – or an egg sac. They look like a tiny little white balloon attached near the base of the hair follicle, sort of hard to see from a distance. When I thought I spotted one, I’d yank out that hair and hold it up to the light, sometimes even catching a little crustacean dancing around the end, but most often finding nothing, false alarm. It was an oddly and uncomfortably trance-like exercise, sometimes bordering on obsessive compulsive territory.
And it always reminded me of the head lice breakouts in elementary school, when my mother would make me sit for endless hours under a lamp while she picked through my scalp, hair by hair, like an ape grooming her baby, but with acrylic nails. I used to scowl and curse those other children who brought this on me with their filth.
10. September 2009 at 4:17 pm
awww poor Boy :-( your life is sooooooo hard. New Orleans, Africa, South America….really guy, your life is hard? Wow. Guess that sums it up for Brooklyn, the new/kinda old place to be. Stop complaints people and donate to the ones who need it, for real!
10. September 2009 at 4:23 pm
What kind of shoes did you wear in the shower?
11. September 2009 at 2:35 pm
Hello. Great writing. Your article resembles and mirrors my past experience. I, too, was told I had crabs, then scabies. I freaked out. Threw away mattresses, clothes, you name it. Was crazily cleaning everything, every minute, including my carseat. As time went on, I went to different doctors. Turned out it was shingles. You may be told you have shingles next. Either way, you seem to be doing fine. I am not good at typing in these blogs, because everything gets contradicted by comments. Best interests to you. I used to live in NY and I know how you feel! I still live there just not year round.
29. September 2009 at 12:18 pm
We are producing the second season of our show, Monsters Inside Me, for the Animal Planet about parasitic infections in humand. Would you be interested in sharing your story with us?
I look forward to hearing from you! Thanks, Liz
30. September 2009 at 12:35 am
I’ve never gotten crabs or have to deal with bed bugs thanks the lord but a few years ago I got scabies and NOT from dallying with some hussy, but from a hotel room during a high school trip, at a Marriott Courtyard! In Atlanta! I was so mad, I’ve never stayed at a Marriott ever since.
Now, how f-up is it that as I read Ben’s horror tale, I completely forgot what the subject was the moment I got to the line: “I’m very hairy” ???
William, we the people demand you set up a photoshoot of Ben in various stages of undressing (the setting is up to you) and feature him as tomorrow–I mean, Friday’s *A Good Stiff One* which would give you plenty of time.
The people have spoken.
30. September 2009 at 6:57 pm
@Nate,
I think you might have gotten yourself a date!
1. October 2009 at 12:08 am
Hahaha, am I? Does that means he’s agree to be Friday’s “A Good Stiff One?”
My first NY date… what to wear, what to wear… at least I know what Ben is going to wear: something shirtless not matter how cold :)
Hold the train, has he taken care of his newest parasite issue yet? We may have to reschedule….
20. October 2009 at 8:47 am
This just in. It was bed bugs all along. ARGH! Just found one, unmistakable. Will keep you posted. Wish me luck!
20. October 2009 at 11:16 am
Ugh!! That’s so foul. What’s with you and parasites? You’ve had the worst luck I’ve heard/read about when it comes to that! You’re gonna end up needing therapy, I know I would. Just burn that matress!!….and you can stay with me until you buy a new one :)