Out walking one warm evening, I come to a corner where six or seven Latin guys are gathered around a woman, trying to impress her. As I approach, I realize I'm trapped in a BBC nature documentary. Behind me, that impeccable British narrator David Attenborough explains "In season, the ritualized male sexual display involves gathering in groups before an unmated female, strutting, and presenting their genitalia for the female to compare for size and color."

And so they are. 2-3 of them have unzipped their pants; huge erections jut out, a foot or more long, carefully waxed and dyed red, brown, purple... one is even a dusky blue. They solemnly wave their technicolor wangs like semaphores. The cocks seem to be remarkably elastic; some men stretch them so she can check the knob at the end more closely. One man even detaches his cock entirely and hands it to her, to inspect! It looks like some weird tropical bird. He shows her the bird...

I feel embarrassed by the display, and wonder if I have to do it too.

I guess I could... it's not the exhibitionism that bothers me, but I hate being trapped in such a rigid biological ritual. I always hated exams.

I wanted sex to be fun.

Sorry, wrong species.

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