Hard for the Money

Parental Advisory! - This column contains explicit adult situations. I advise you not to read this column if you are my parents.

As everone knows, LA isn't cheap. Housing is expensive, gas is expensive, food is expensive, talking constantly on your cell phone is expensive. Obviously it'll be a while before I can support myself soley through stunt coordination, so out here I've been looking for other ways to earn money. Seeing as my skills are pretty much martial arts and writing about myself, I was really racking my brain and coming up empty. I scoured Craigslist high and low, and finally my eyes settled on something: California Cryobank.

Sperm donation is a constant punch line in movies, but I'd never actually met anyone who'd gone through the process. I knew the screening process would be fairly long and rigorous, but I figured why not give it a shot. It can be quite lucrative.

First I filled out an online application, asking very basic questions. About a week later I got an e-mail, congratulating me on passing the first stage of the screening and inviting me to come in for an appointment and to give a "specimen." I wrote back with the day I would be free to come, and in another day or two I got a call from a nice young woman named Megan.

She gave me a few details about the appointment, and then asked when I could come in. I thought carefully. They require a two to three day abstinence period before a "collection," and I didn't want to schedule that haphazardly.

"Alright," I said. "How about 10:30 am on Thursday."

"Ok," she confirmed. "In preparation for your appointment at 10:30 am on Thursday you'll have to ejaculate between 10:30 pm on Monday and 10:30 am on Tuesday."

Wait a second...who are you to tell me when I have to ejaculate?

We talked about a few more details. "It's been very busy this summer," she said, "which is suprising because it usually tapers off once school gets out. I just must be a very good recruiter."

"Yeah, that's a hell of a talent to put on your resume. 'Good at obtaining sperm donations.'"

She laughed. "Everybody's good at something." It was a shame that I never got to meet this girl. I may have proposed on the spot.

On the designated thursday I made my appointment. I had to come in through an unmarked back door, which only opened once they buzzed me in. This was real secret agent stuff. Once there I filled out a detailed personal and family history. That whole process actually made me feel pretty confident. College educated, all of my family too. Good health, no allergies, diseases, defects. No drugs, only occasional alchohol. You know what? Some hopeful mother would be lucky to have me as her baby's daddy.

But enough filling out forms, let's get to the good stuff! A guy came over and explained the collection process to me, setting a new landmark for awkardness in my life.

"We have two collection rooms here" - he pointed to a pair of doors about two feet from where we talked. No way I was using those, you could hear pages turning from that close - "and on the other side," - he indicated doors around the corner, which I'll wager is where 100% of all donors go to come.

"Once you get in there, I'll need you to wash your hands very thoroughly with soap."

I nodded poker faced. I did a lot of that during this conversation.

"You also need to dry your hands very carefully, you can't have any soap remaining. "Nod. "Don't use the soap as a lubricant." Nod. "Don't use any lubricant." "There are magazines in every room." Nod. "We also have a selection of DVDs if you'd like." Nod and start wondering if it wasn't too late to go home. He pulled out a black DVD wallet and put it on the table.

"I think the magazines will be fine," I said. I didn't really relish the idea of flipping through the pages of that DVD case trying to decide between Whoriental Academy 3 and Where the Boy's Aren't 7.

I got in the room, and it was very awkard. The same awkardness when you're with someone else, and you two both want to get down to business, but you aren't sure the other person does, and you're not really sure how to get started anyway. It was like that, but there was no one else around. Maybe I should have gotten liqoured up beforehand. I won't bore you with the details, but let's just say eventually I worked up the courage to make the first move, and things went pretty smoothly after that. However, just as I was about to leave the room, I had a tragic realization:

I had forgotten to wash my hands!

Great, just when I think something is so simple I can't possibly screw it up, I still do. What could I do? I could wait half an hour and try again, but if they require a three day abstinence period, I don't think thirty minutes would give them the sample they wanted. Or I could go out there, admit my mistake, and reschedule for the next week, but that would make today's visit useless. Ultimately, I decided to do what you always do when you screw up your sexual performance: keep quiet and hope nobody notices.

I turned in the cup, answered a few perfunctory questions, and got ready to leave. Just as I was putting my papers in my bag, another guy arrived, presumably the next appointment. That was awkward.

I won't keep you in suspense wondering what the outcome was: After a few days I got an e-mail saying my results were promising, but they wanted me to come in again and give another sample to be sure. A callback audition, as it were. That story I'll save for next time.