Crotch Management

My dear friend, Miz B, wrote to me in distress about the genital agony that resulted from her first cross-training bike ride. I empathized. See, no one really talks about how much cycling hurts your lady parts.

Bike shorts include a padded section called a chamois (pronounced shammy). The chamois, though, is a bit of a tease. It feels so spongy and padded! You think, heck, my junk is going to feel like a million bucks! So what if you feel like you're wearing a diaper? So what if your ass looks double its normal size? It will all be worth it for a pain-free ride.

But, alas. The chamois can only help so much. Hours of banging up and down on a hard plastic bike seat can really take its toll on a person's personal business.

So then, you go into the bike shop and say, 'Hey, my ass hurts.' And they flog this gel-filled seat cover gimmick. And you gladly hand over your $20 because you've been violated repeatedly by that godforsaken suicide seat and enough's enough. And you put the gel-thing on. It feels kinda gooey and cool. You think this is it.

You get on. You slide off. You get back on. You slide off. You get on. The seat cover slides off and kind of hangs limply off the side of the seat. Then a really, really old man wearing a hockey helmet for a bike helmet rides by. He's got a gel-filled seat cover. You decide that gel-filled seat covers are not exactly your style.

Then, some hard core Iron-yutz suggests something called chamois cream. This Iron-yutz looks good. I mean really sexy. And you think, heck yes, this is my ticket back to genital health. No longer will my lady parts be burger! And then, because hey, you're human, you think, maybe you should take this Iron-yutz for a ride. You know....a RIDE. Wink, wink.

But he's way out of your league and is probably boffing two blonde models as we speak.

So instead, you spend another $20 on chamois cream. And it has a gross name like Chamois Butt'r or Udder Balm or a brandname called Assos of all things. On the back it says "Apply Liberally." It doesn't say where. It doesn't say what "liberally" even means.

So there you are, buck naked with a tube of thick white cream, staring at your crotch.

Because in passing you've learned that you aren't supposed to wear underwear with your bike shorts. Maybe you've learned this because people have laughed at you and your visible panty lines out there on the trail. Maybe that was a really crappy way to learn that, and the jackass that sold you the shorts might have been nice enough to give you the heads-up if he wasn't such an elitist prick.

C'est la vie. We're naked, we've got cream.

And you think you should probably put the gunk on the place that hurts the most. Only, that particular area is not a place you usually put cream. And you think, is this safe? Is this hygienic? Am I just begging for a raging yeast infection here?

So, you bail on that line of thinking and spastically smear some cream on your inner thighs. Then you pull up your diaper shorts, avoid looking at your ass in the mirror on the way out and go for your ride.

Later, when you limp to the bathroom and surgically remove your bike shorts from your tenderized AAA privates, you think maybe you used the chamois cream incorrectly.

In two days, when you can walk again, you visit that sexy Iron-yutz again.

Blushing, you tell him you got the cream thanks and you used it on Wednesday, but um...is it possible that maybe you did it wrong? And he looks at you while caressing his tanned muscular calves and says, "Dude, you have to use a lot. Like...a lot." And you get the feeling that is the end of the conversation.

So the next time, you use a lot. Like, you squirt a quarter of the tube into the crotch of your shorts and pull them up. Which is when you experience the ice-cold slimy sensation of a half pound of goo connecting intimately with your junk.

You waddle bow-legged to your bike. You get on, ignoring the squishing sound. You feel like you are floating in a sea of clammy crotch cream. You ride.

Then you have to pee. You peel off those shorts to find a white mess waiting for you. Good. God. You look away. You pee. You think, Crap, should I wipe? Or just drip? And you end up dabbing pathetically and then pulling up your shorts for Cold and Slimy 2: The Chamois Cream Returns.

You finish your ride and by this time, you've forgotten all about the slime because, guess what? Your crotch still aches. And this could be the $80 bike shorts, $20 gel-seat cover and $20 cream talking, but yeah, y'know, I guess maybe (maybe?) it's a little better.