A Vagina Saved My Life

I work at Playboy in Chicago. I work in the photo department and look at vaginas all day long. I retouch vaginas. I shrink vaginas. I tuck vaginas but I don't #@$% vaginas... so their charm is lost on me. Mostly.

I joined the Playboy softball team a few months ago in anticipation of the summer ahead, not knowing I would be single and homeless once the season started. Maybe fate had something up her sleeve. I almost didn't go to our first game last night. I missed all of the practices and haven't touched a ball or sports prop since high school. I was certain it would be disaster. I pictured myself skipping around bases or fumbling the ball and imagined the ridicule from the other team as well as my own.

We arrived at the field. I knew half the team and the other half quickly introduced themselves. They are all fantastic and friendly. Everyone was their for fun, not competition. The other team creamed us but we didn't mind and proved it by crossing the street to Bowman's for beers outside. I looked around at my teammates and smiled. Guys patted backs. Girls curled up in deck chairs, tucking knees under chins or under sweatshirts to stay warm, wrapped arms around themselves. More than one person pointed out the chilly weather and the hope and anticipation for warmer summer days. The sky grew dim and a nearly full moon looked down on us.

By the time I began walking to Jason's apartment, the night sky had fully spread itself above me. I lit a cigarette. I imagined Michael walking beside me, then imagined him next to me when I fell asleep on Jason's couch. I remembered those cold girls in the evening air with their arms cradling their knees for heat and wrapped my arms around myself. At least I knew I wouldn't let go.

I got a promotion today. It's been a long time coming. I can see a wonderful time ahead of me and vaginas too.