Colored Condoms
S.Q. Lapius had been
fidgeting at his work bench for most of the evening. His work kept him
from soliloquizing, and I took advantage of the quiet moments to try to assimilate
the latest on the endless skein of events that transpire during the
immunological response. But it didn’t last long. With a final grunt
of victory Lapius turned from his work and held up a small velvet board.
“What do you think of this, Harry?”
Affixed to the board
were five small balloon things in exotic colors. “Lovely,” I said. “A present for your granddaughter?”
“I haven’t got a
granddaughter, Harry. And if my son-in-law uses these properly, I may
never have one.”
I looked closely. “You
don’t mean---?”
Lapius was
triumphant. “I certainly do. These are condoms.”
“In
color?”
“Yes. Smuggled in from
“Why smuggled? You
mean imported, of course.”
“No. I mean
smuggled. We in
“Most assuredly they
are. Do you think color is a selling point for that product?”
“It is in
“What are you going to
do with that display? Hang it on the wall? Wouldn’t you rather have a Picasso or a Matisse?”
“I’m going to show these
to my patients. To the young girls that come in
asking for the ‘pill’ or for an
intrauterine device.”
“The girls can’t use
them.”
“No, that’s true. But
I am going to try to talk them into having their consorts use them.”
“Do you think you will
succeed?” I asked dubiously.
“Of course I will
succeed. Because I will combine this display with the
pictures of venereal disease that I have collected. You know, those not very pretty pictures of sores and ulcers.”
Indeed I know them
well. “With those pictures you might scare them away from sex
altogether.”
“I doubt it. But I
might convince them that the condom serves a double purpose. It protects
against pregnancy and against disease. It is unquestionably the best
device conceived to prevent conceiving.”
“That’s not what I
heard.”
Lapius chuckled.
“Of course I had forgotten. Your generation has had no experience with
these devices.”
“Well---.”
“Don’t apologize Harry. We are all products of our own
age. But let me fill you in on a few details. It is true that the
condom diminishes somewhat the tactile pleasures one might anticipate during
sexual contact, but even that drawback has been overcome to a large extent by
the sheer of the material used, lubricants, etc. Condoms have never
recovered from the observation of Mme. De Sevigne, who claimed that the condom
is ‘armor against pleasure and gossamer against infection’. But of course
she said that in the 17th century. Technology has improved
since then. Actually now the aphorism can be reversed. The device
is gossamer for pleasure and armor against infection.”
“Can’t there be an
accident?”
“Of course there
can. But they are tailored better now to prevent slippage. And as
for effectiveness, there is a quote in the magazine Human Sexuality (July 1973)
of a most impressive statistic by Dr. Christopher Tietze, who said that ‘a
group of normally fecund couples, copulating 120 times per year and carefully
using a good grade of condom on every occasion, would experience an accidental
pregnancy rate of 3 per 100 years of exposure.”
“You can’t beat that.”
“No. The ‘pill’
doesn’t beat that, nor does the intrauterine device. Besides, look at the
medical risk incurred by women who use birth control pills. They suffer a
ten-fold increase in the risk of a blood clot in a vital organ compared to the
normal population, generalized endocrine alterations, possibly psychological
changes, an insult to the tissues of womb and cervix. And women wearing
the intrauterine device run the risk of low grade infection. I must say I
don’t know why women put up with these contraptions. Why they risk the
mutilation of their bodies when a condom would do the same job safely.
And don’t forget the additional factor of infection. Use of the condom
would certainly halt the spread of the epidemic of venereal disease in this
country. It certainly is a paradox that the women’s lib movement, that
fights against having the male use them as sexual objects and that demands
equality in sexual matters are willing to run these high risks to become sexual
objects. Real equality would be achieved if they persuaded their escorts
to use a rubber.”
“You’re old fashioned,
Simon,” I said.
“Old fashioned?
Old fashioned, you say? I think I’ll make one for myself. Would you like a drink?”
“Thanks. Make me a
Martini.”
“You are too young. I
was thinking orange juice.”