This friend of mine joined the Peace Corps a few years ago. He was a young guy and wanted to do something special…something for others. He was soon sent off to some desert area near Egypt for his first mission (or whatever they call it) to help build school houses and teach children in need. What a great guy. Smart, loving, dedicated, honest and giving.
Anyway, when he returned we got together for a few beers and to talk about his “journey.” After he had downed more than a pitcher, he began telling me a story that I don’t think he ever intended on telling anyone…but I just sat there nodding my head…and listening.
The story goes as follows:
“So once I got to the desert Corps camp, I was shown into the camp manager’s office. He had me sit down and proceeded to go over all of the rules, timelines, jobs, personnel, etc. When he was done he showed me to my bunk house. I got my stuff situated and joined up with the rest of the workers and started on my journey to help those in need. After a few weeks, I noticed (out of nothing more than my manly urges) that there were no women at the camp. I brought it up to one of my co-workers who said that due to the local customs, women were not allowed to work here and that I should go talk about it with the camp manager. I was a bit embarrassed so I did nothing about it at the time. After a few more weeks, the urges were getting pretty bad and the sleeping quarters and showers were not conducive for pleasuring my self. I decided to bite the bullet and go talk to the camp manager about it.
I went into the office and told the camp manager that I’d been there for more than 6 weeks and was wondering if there were any women that were around…I was getting pretty frustrated and kind of wanted some release. The manager looked at me and said, “Well…around the back of the office…there is a camel…” I cut him off there and said, “Thanks but I’ll be ok.” And I bolted from the office.
It was about a month later when I went back to the office, basically clutching my groin…as if I were going to explode. I told the manager, again, about my situation and he once again said, “OK, there is a camel in the barn behind this building and that is what most of the guys here use…” I cut him off again and ran from the office…thinking about how nasty that would be…especially after all off these other guys…fuck that!
Now I had been there for 3 and a half months…I ran into the manager’s office, with duress on my face. I sternly asked about that camel. He pointed out the back window to the barn. I ran out the door and around to the barn. After grabbing a stool from the side of the barn and placing it behind the tied up camel, I jumped up on the stool, ripped my pants down, lifted the camel’s tail and ….OH MY GOD! I have to say that it did not take me long at all. It did not even really click that it was a camel until after…and at that point…I didn’t care.
I ran back into the manager’s office, with a huge grin on my face and said, “That was great!...Can I do that whenever I want?” The manager looked at me with the strangest eyes that I’d ever seen and said, “what the hell are you talking about? What happened?” I told him that I grabbed a stool from the side of the barn and placed it behind the tied up camel, I jumped up on the stool, ripped my pants down, lifted the camel’s tail and …you know. The manager, let his head fall into his hands and then, after a few seconds, looked up at me with a shitty grin and said to me, “Holy shit boy! Most of the guys get the camel and ride it into the town about 20 miles east of here!”
That was my last day at that camp…I insisted on being transferred to a completely different region where I finished out my 6 months...from that point on…I decided to wait til I got back to the states to get laid.” I have to say that I really hope that this story was not true…I never brought it up with him again, but these days I’m thinking that he’s not as smart as I used to think he was.
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