He got caught up in a virulent pandemic that has infected the greater metropolitan Pittsburgh area. I think it’s called “The-Pens-Won-The-Stanley-Cup-A-Tosis.”

Or something like that.

At any rate, due to his horrific illness, we won’t have our comic up today. Come back tomorrow, after you have read the amusing anecdote that I was saving for today’s post:

I am, in every way imaginable, a bachelor. I don’t got no hoes, in this or any other area codes. I have no standing dates or friends with benefits. When I saw a flyer for the Children’s Action Coalition Bachelor Auction in my area, I told myself I would attend and offer my body, such as it is, up to the crowd in exchange for money.

“How bad could it be?” I asked myself. “Go piss up a rope. I don’t wanna go,” was the immediate response. I overcame these misgivings and went. For the kids. And because I hadn’t technically left the house in a week.

I was unfamiliar with the protocol at these things since I’d never participated in one. Maybe if I had some experience I would have predicted what happened next. When I got there and announced myself as a piece of available livestock, the woman running the show looked at me as if I were a complete fucking moron.

“Oh, honey, that’s so sweet of you to volunteer. We, um, we already collected our bachelors. Weeks ago. There’s already been a rehearsal and everything. But you’re welcome to stay and check it out.”

I would like to take this moment to point out that there was zero indication on the flyer that they had already collected their beefcake. And there was no mention of the event to be found on the entire Internet, a point that particularly infuriates me because I know how cheaply and effectively it can be used to communicate information.

Too ashamed to leave (they had complimentary valets, and I couldn’t very well walk right back out as if I were rejected by a charity), I stayed for a drink. Mercifully, some people I know showed up with people that I didn’t know, and I had the lovely opportunity to expand my social circle, even if just a little bit and only for a few hours.

The bottom line is this; attend one of these things if you ever get a chance, if only for the singular experience of observing women in an unparalleled primal state. Ladies go bat-shit insane when men are straight-up available for purchase, exhibiting behavior that is beyond my capacity to describe with words. I have nothing in my memory to which to compare it, and I doubt you do either. I saw one guy, the date with whom was nothing but a ride on his Harley and dinner at Applebee’s or some shit, go for $750.

A middle aged cop, in Lexington, Kentucky. Worth $750.

Come to think of it, it’s probably best I didn’t get to participate. I have enough problems evaluating my self worth without having a crowd-sourced monetary value attached to it.

Anyway, come back tomorrow. We should have the strip up by then.