I was moseying down the street when I noticed this bracelet in the window of this leather store near Broadway and Belmont. It was this very manly, thick wrist-wear type thing, and I dig that so I decided to go in. This burly, bearded man was sitting behind the counter with a contented scowl on his face–not a mean guy by any means, but certainly he looked like he’d been working hard. He had black soot on his arms and was smoking a cigarette. I said to him, “That’s a really sweet bracelet in the window there–how much?” and he took a pull off his cigarette, looked me straight in the eye, and replied in the deepest, manliest of voices, “That’s a coooooooccccccck ring.” The whole bottom dropped out from under me–I couldn’t contain my laughter. I thought he’d laugh with me but he didn’t; he just looked serious and took another pull on the cigarette. I giggled like a schoolgirl and pointed out another one next to the first and said, “OK, how about that one?” Then he took another pull, smiled, and croaked, “Now that’s a bracelet–and it don’t go on your cock either.” When I reiterated the story later that evening here with my friends they were all like, “You didn’t know that about cock rings, huh?” I guess I know now. –Domenico Rocco, librarian