Peter's Little Peter

The Truth About Big Dick Energy

Like just about everything else Elroy does, his apology begins with an explanation. A really long explanation. 

"Do you know who Anthony Bourdain was?" Elroy asks.

"This better be relevant to your apology," Judy says.

"It is."

"Well, I'm paying close attention, and if I don't see the relevance to Anthony Bourdain by the end of this apology, I'll..."

"You'll what, Judy?"

Judy looks stumped. For all the arguing with her little brother, they both seem to love each other. And seeing them standing there in Judy's living room, I wish, just for a moment, that I had a sibling. Because even when Mom and Dad aren't at work, which is pretty all the time, I feel alone in my family. What would it be like, I wonder, to have someone else I could confide in, even if we were just commiserating about something totally ridiculous our parents said?

"Just get on with it," Judy snaps.

"Very well," Elroy says. "Anthony Bourdain was a famous chef, author, and television personality."

"I've seen the show," I say. "The one on CNN. I mean, Travel Channel."

"It's basically the same show. Anthony Bourdain travels somewhere, eats the food, has a profound experience with a local, and then tries to get his viewers to change their outlook on the world, or travel, or the location, or humanity."

"So, you're Anthony Bourdain here," I say. "Without the travel. Or the cooking, unless you count the Chub Potion Number Nine and its various recipes. And you were trying to change my outlook."

"I was trying to change your outlook," Elroy says. "But I'm not the Anthony Bourdain of this story. You are."

Judy rolls her eyes, and I have to say I can't blame her. The thought of Elroy being Anthony Bourdain is laughable. But hey, that's Elroy's fantasy, and it's his story, so whatever. But how on Earth am I Anthony Bourdain? That guy was as cool as cool gets in a real person. Only Han Solo is cooler, but alas, he's a fictional character.

"At first, my idea was just to help you change your outlook," Elroy says. "I used to have a lisp."

"It's true," Judy says. "He used to have a terrible lisp."

"Nick Spears and all the football players teased me. So did the mean girls. Everyone teased me. The called me gay. Which is true, of course. But they didn't mean it as a compliment. Instead, they just assumed that because I had this lisp that I must be gay. And to them, both my lisp and my sexuality were hilarious. It was like I couldn't talk without some jerk at school doing a terrible impression of me, making fun of the way I spoke, or the fact that I was gay. And at that point, I wasn't out, so it really hurt. It got so bad, I practically became a mute."

"I wish," Judy says. But she's smiling to let both Elroy and me know that she doesn't really mean it.

"My grades started dropping," Elroy says. "I stopped hanging out with friends. I basically retreated from life."

"Sounds familiar," I say.

"Exactly," Elroy says. "When I saw what they were doing to you, Peter, I saw myself."

"So, you thought all this guy needs is a bigger dick?" Judy asks.

"Yeah, I don't follow," I say. "You can fix a lisp. Obviously, you did fix your lisp. But my dick remains tiny, AF."

"I fixed my lisp by doing a lot of exercises with my tongue," Elroy explains. "I don't want to get into the details here, but basically with a good speech therapist and a lot of hard work, you can correct a lisp."