Thursday, September 25, 2008

One Ticket to Paradise

Dear Senior Corporal Rene Dominguez,

Good day to you, creative barterer! My name is Alibaster K. Abthernabther, best-selling author, champion yacht racer, hot-air balloon enthusiast, and, like you, someone who occasionally enjoys swapping goods and services for sex acts. Allegedly.

First, allow me to welcome you back to the Dallas Police Department. Dallas' Finest certainly need every good man they can get and this reinstatement proves that you can't keep a good man down. Nor can you keep a good man from changing out of his uniform before offering to buy a homeless woman a bus ticket in exchange for some anonymous sexing. Allegedly.

Far be it from me to judge the merit of what occurs beneath the warm, gentle buzz of a parking structure's florescence, but the exchange rate that was (allegedly) in effect during the aforementioned interplay does not seem to equally favour both parties.

The devil is in the details, I suppose. And the details available are a tad contradictory, if super duper nasty.

What has been documented is a transaction of fellatio with a teeny bit of in-and-out in exchange for a one-way ticket to the armpit of East Texas. That whole package is a little unsavory, even for me. So, let's redraw the entire picture for the sake of argument.

Let's assume the bus ticket helped the woman reach a more exotic locale, such as Zanzibar, Minsk, or Thunderfucker Island. Then it would be well worth her while to sex your loins accordingly.

However, if the bus ride you afforded her only took her as far as, say, New Braunfels, then I would clearly declare you to be the trade's out-and-out beneficiary. Unless, of course, you also bought her tickets to Schlitterbahn, in which case I would call the entire affair an equitable draw.


And then there is the question of the "sex" in question. Was it, in fact, a throat toss followed by actual coital tumbling, or something far less involved?

I think we can all agree that there exists the kind of sex that is merely worth a bus ticket and then there is a wholly other type of ferociously incredible fucksplosion that is worth losing one's job, if only for about 6 months, and then the Dallas Civil Service Trial Board reinstates you, sans back pay.

To avoid possible shortchanging in future swaps, I have drawn up the following reciprocal sex-for-travel scale. I hope you find it informative, useful, and infusefultive.
  • subway token = 30-minute makeout session under a bridge or highway overpass
  • guided Segway tour = sensuous testicular massage
  • piggyback ride from a unicyclist = yell into rectum
  • three-legged sack race = a "Three-Legged Sac Race"
  • bus ticket = limp, yet lengthy handjob
  • DART pass (one month) = firm, forceful handjob while yelling into rectum
  • rickshaw carriage ride = repeated, nondescript sexual penetration of the nasal cavity
  • taxi service to airport = reach-around
  • taxi service to and from airport = reach-around with full release
  • round trip airfare = weekend-long reach-around with super extreme mega release
  • chartered helicopter = something I like to call "The Reverse Chicken Dinner"
  • oceanic cruise = urinate on foot
  • space shuttle trip = an "Around the World" followed by a handshake and a letter of recommendation from an Ivy League University

Alibaster K. Abthernabther