The local police have asked me to stop calling them immediately after I masturbate.

I can’t help it, though. I’m a 27-year-old bachelor; I masturbate a lot. And, well, you’ll see. I’ll get to it. I used to live in a big city. Back then, I had to call 911 maybe three, four times a year. Now I live out in the country. I know that the response time is longer, that the nearest officer might be 15 minutes away, but they can’t seem to understand the future urgency of my situation. “Is this a life-threatening emergency?” the dispatcher will say. And I’ll say, “Not yet, but it soon will be.” And they’ll say, “Give us your location.” And I’ll say, “I’m at a Holiday Inn.” Or, “I’m at a movie theater.” Or, “I am on a bus.” And they’ll say, “Sir, this is not funny. Do you know how many times you’ve called us this month? You’re on our ‘Do Not Take Seriously’ list.” And I’ll say, “That’s not a real thing, right?” And they’ll say, “Yes, it is. It’s very real.” They’ll pause, then ask, “Why do you keep calling us? Do you need an ambulance?” I’ll answer, “No, I just finished having sex with myself.” There will be a pause, then the dispatcher will laugh and say, “You know you can stop masturbating at any time, right?” I’ll bring my voice down to a whisper and say, “No, I don’t think that’s true.” By that time, the scent of smoke has wafted into my room. The dispatcher will hear me gulp. She’ll hear me cough. She’ll ask, “Sir? Are you there?” I’ll answer, “There is a fire nearby.” “Sir, you need to find somewhere to quickly and calmly exit —” I will interrupt her, “There is no time! I’m going to die!” The voice on the other end will change. A man’s voice. I think it’s the police chief. He’ll say, “Sir, I need you to give us your location. We have reports of a fire nearby. We need to get an ambulance there as soon as possible. Can you tell me where you are?” I’ll answer, “The parking lot at the Holiday Inn.” Or, “The parking lot at the movie theater.” Or, “The parking lot at the bus stop.” The chief will say, “Alright, we’re on our way.” I’ll hear the mighty wail of a siren in the background. He’ll say, “Can you describe the fire to me?” I’ll answer, “It’s about three feet long. It’s made of flame.” The chief will say, “Alright, I think we’ll be able to find that.” There will be the sound of paper shuffling. He’ll say, “You know you’ve called us pretty often. That you’re on our ‘Do Not Take Seriously’ list.” I’ll say, “I know that’s not a real thing, right?” There will be a pause. Then the chief will say, “You know you can stop masturbating at any time, right?” I’ll bring my voice down to a whisper and say, “No, I don’t think that’s true.” The chief will chuckle and say, “My friend, if you can hear me, you’re going to be okay. Just stay on the line and stay calm.” I’ll say, “I’m calm. I’m okay. I’m just going to go ahead and hang up.” I’ll pause. The chief will start talking but I’ll interrupt him. I’ll say, “Thank you officer. I appreciate it.” Then I’ll hang up the phone. I’m hanging up because I need to get into the passenger seat of my truck. It’s on fire. It’s made of flame, and it’s about three feet long. It’s a big flame; about the size of a grown man. I need to get it in the passenger seat because, if it stays any longer in the driver’s seat, it’s going to blow up the whole truck. So I open the driver’s side door. I tell the flame, “Hey, you need to get in the back seat.” The flame will say, “I don’t wanna be in the back seat.” It always says this. I’ll say, “Listen, you need to go in the back seat because, if you stay in the driver’s seat, you’re going to blow up the whole car.” Flame will say, “But I don’t wanna be in the back seat.” I’ll say, “Flame, if you blow up the car, I won’t be able to drive anywhere anymore. Where will you be then? You like the Holiday Inn, the movie theater, the bus stop. Do you want to not be able to go to those places?” I can never tell what Flame is thinking because it is a flame. It doesn’t have a face. But I can always tell what it is thinking. It will think, “Damn. I didn’t realize that blowing up the car would have repercussions on my life.” It will say, “Uh, okay. I’ll go in the passenger seat then.” It always says this. And that’s why I need to hang up on the police chief. I need to talk to Flame. I need to tell it to go into the passenger seat. So I hang up. I tell Flame, “You need to go into the passenger seat.” It will say, “I don’t wanna be in the passenger seat.” I’ll say, “Flame, please. If you stay in the driver’s seat, you’re going to blow up the whole car.” The flame will say, “But I don’t wanna be in the passenger seat.” I’ll say, “Flame, if you blow up the car, I won’t be able to drive anywhere anymore. Where will you be then? You like the Holiday Inn, the movie theater, the bus stop. Do you want to not be able to go to those places?” Flame will pause. It will think, “Damn. I didn’t realize that blowing up the car would have repercussions on my life.” It will say, “Uh, okay. I’ll go in the passenger seat then.” It always says this. And then it will go into the passenger seat. And I’ll get back into the driver’s seat. And I’ll close the door. And I’ll shut off the engine. And I won’t explode. I still don’t know what will happen if Flame gets to the end of a trip before I finish masturbating. It’s always stayed in the passenger seat until I’ve finished. But I don’t know what would happen if it had gotten bored and left the passenger seat. Would it go into the back seat? Would it just hang around? I don’t know. But that’s why I can’t stop masturbating. I need to keep it in the passenger seat for as long as possible. That’s why I call 911. That’s why they have me on their ‘Do Not Take Seriously’ list. That’s why I can’t stop masturbating. And that’s why I can’t stop calling 911.

The local police have asked me to stop calling them immediately after I masturbate.

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