Condom Dilema

My question is a simple one: if we can put a man on the moon, why can’t we produce condoms that smell nice?

Make no mistake: I am not anti-condom. I have a long and storied (some would even say, fairytale-like) history with condoms, replete with fond memories, the oldest being the day I tried on my first condom.

You see, ladies, I’m going to let you in on a little secret - one of the most important days of a young man’s life is when he tries on his first condom. And to be clear, I don’t mean this in a sexual-intercourse-is-pending way. No man - or at least, no man worth his salt - has ever put on a condom for the first time while his naked or pantsless girlfriend is waiting to deflower him. Even at a young age, a guy knows that it’s important to do a test run so that when the opportunity for sex arrives, there won’t be enough time for the girl to get nervous and change her mind/for the booze to wear off and the girl to wake up while he is fumbling helplessly with the condom.

I was especially concerned about condoms because even at a young age I was aware that I had a tiny penis. I spent almost all of junior high sleeping only three hours a night, as I lay awake wondering if my unfortunate, diminutive bird would ever fit into a condom, which from porn I saw could stretch very far and wide and wow. Of course in porn, this stretching was necessary as the studs in those films had penises larger than my forearms - if anything, the condoms the porn actors wore looked like they were straining and uncomfortable, as if you could hear them saying "Can’t…hold on…much longer…" In my case, I worried that my baby bird would never be able to keep the condom on; I imagined a condom would fit my penis like a pen cap on a toothpick.

But all fears were allayed one day in eighth grade when my buddy Ronnie went to K-Mart and stole a box of Trojans. Ronnie, good friend that he was, then distributed the condoms between his friends, many of whom would not have sex for many years (myself included) or ever (myself kinda included - depends on what you mean by "sex" and also "have"). After Ronnie handed me two condoms around the schoolyard where we all hung out, I raced back to my house with a speed that can only be summoned by a sexually-charged 12 year old, locked myself in the bathroom, ripped open the condom, rolled it on (the sheer magnitude and excitement of the moment had given me an erection) and…IT FIT.

I slept for the next three days straight.

(After masturbating furiously, of course.)

So in order to show my gratitude to condoms for just fitting me, I wear condoms quite often during sexual intercourse. (I’d say probably 58% of the time, which in my circle of friends, is very impressive and the highest by far.)

And I don’t mind wearing a condom. I’m trying to figure out how the old axiom "beggars can’t be choosers" can be applied here, but suffice it to say that I’m just happy to be getting laid and would put a cheese grater on my dick to achieve orgasm in the presence of a (breathing, aware, semi-consensual) woman.

But that still doesn’t answer my question: do they have to smell so bad and be so gross?

According to guys, there are three main knocks on condoms:

1) They take away feeling. Hogwash. As addressed above, just be happy you’re getting laid. Otherwise, got back to jerking off in your laundry basket.

(Not that that’s not awesome in its own way.)

2) They take lovers out of the moment. This is undeniably true. It’s so much better (and more fun) to make love on the couch without interruption than to start kissing on the couch, take off some clothes, get up from the couch to search around for a condom, put the condom on the rapidly flacciding penis, get a couple of thrusts in, apologize for being limp, then have a milkshake.

But the alternatives are not much better. Do you know what else disrupts "the moment"? Babies. And: herpes. So you’re better off strategically placing condoms in secret places all over your apartment so that you can take advantage of spur of the moment kitchen sex than having to call your ex-girlfriend to ask her if she’s ever heard of "chlamydia."

3) They’re just nasty. True, true. True.

So what can we do here? I admit, maybe I’m a little naive. My experience with different brands and kinds of condoms has been very limited. Forever, I have used your standard blue Trojans with spermicidal lubricant. In high school, I had a sex ed teacher who stressed that it mattered not what brand of condoms we used, but that it had to have the spermicide Nonoxynol 9. I distinctly remember, in a scene much like the one in "Rushmore" in which Herman Blume is giving an address and Max Fischer is copiously taking notes, underlining the words "Nonoxynol 9" over and over again after my teacher offered this advice, making a point to remember to use that sperm-killer when I started having sex.

These condoms were fine for a long while, but I eventually wanted to switch it up a little. So I consulted a friend and veritable condom guru, who we will call "Colin." Colin was dating a girl for FIVE YEARS and she never went on the pill (if that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t love you, well, I don’t know what does). So poor, poor Colin had plenty of time to experiment over the years with different condoms, and claimed the best was Durex Extra Sensitive. I used these for a while, but grew awkward when once at a pharmacy I had to instruct the Asian teenage girl behind the counter, "No - the extra sensitive" three times before she finally grabbed the right box. After that, I had trouble using (and asking for) "extra sensitive" condoms - like I was some kind of pimp or something - so I went back to the old blue Trojans.

[To clarify: I don’t mind wearing a condom with a girl I picked up at the karaoke bar after I brought down the house with my fiery rendition of "It’s Not Unusual", but if you’re dating someone for over a few months and having regular sex, well, Uncle John says she’s got to go on the pill. Them’s just the way it is.]

[Actually, I don’t know why all women aren’t on the pill anyway, since it’s the greatest invention since fire and possibly Country Crock, but I’ll fight this battle another day.]

Rounding out my experience, maybe I experimented with a former lady with some ribbed and "her pleasure" condoms, but neither did anything but embarrass me when a roommate or guy in my dorm needed to borrow one and would ask "Her pleasure? What the fuck?" But that’s about it. I have been fairly non-promiscuous when it comes to different condoms.

But all of the condoms I’ve ever used - and have ever heard of anyone using - have been gross. Condoms feel gross. They are covered in goo. They are slimey. And they smell. Why must this be the case?

Aside from the texture and goo of the condoms, we should at least be able to do something about the smell. You’re telling me that there is no way that science can’t mask the smell of latex and lubricant so instead of grossness it smells like an apple orchard? Isn’t there a lab in New Jersey that’s responsible for creating every smell and taste in the world? Can’t the people at Trojan, Durex, et al hook up with these people and make something happen? I’ve noticed that I’ve been consuming an obscene amount of cinnamon in my diet recently; might I recommend cinnamon-scented condoms? Tell me, are cinnamon-scented condoms really an impossible dream?

[Author’s Note: I know about flavored condoms, like banana and mint and strawberry, but I have two issues with these. The first is that who cares what condoms tastes like? (Oh, right - hookers.) Secondly, these condoms are often distributed by no-name companies, like "Uncle Charlie’s Flavored Condoms" and "Chop Chop and the Homos’ Mint Julip Condoms." Much like airlines and liquor, when it comes to condoms, names matter (you wouldn’t fly Bangladeshi Air while drinking Popov vodka, would you?)]

I wish that I could end this post by giving a solution to this problem or at least coming to some sort of conclusion. But frankly, my friends, I’m feeling a little exasperated and defeated (and, not gonna lie, a little aroused). And I don’t know why I care so much about this, because it’s not like I’m having sex anyway; the idea for the post came to me last night when I was feeling nostalgic and decided to put on some condoms and secretly dispose of them, like I used to do in the good old days after having sex with my girlfriend on break from college in her sister's bedroom and in her basement (my favorite is the ol’ "put the used condom in the middle of the hardcover book under the bed and dispose of it when mom has gone shopping and brother and sister are out" tactic).

But I thought this was an important issue that deserved some attention. Hopefully one day, hopefully soon, when I start having sex again, I will be able to suit up with a delicious pumpkin pie smelling condom, so that I can give my lady friend the most adequate fifty-eight seconds of her life. A boy can dream, at least.

(Until then, it’s jerking off in the laundry basket for me.)