Condom City

NOTE: Written by a foreigner who's definitely not anti-American. – E. G.

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In 1944 the mid-west town of Tush had a population of 347 comprised mainly of military deserters, retired prostitutes, unemployed mailmen who'd found the cheapest place in the country to live, wife beaters on the run, women in black vinyl suits carrying chains and black whips, fugitives from the FBI most wanted list and, of course, the pro-rata number of gum-chewing young female store clerks for any town of approximately the size of Tush,

Not counted in the above statistics were five firemen, the railway station staff of three, the mayor, 133 council staff (the council was hopelessly over-manned but that was to keep the town's unemployment figures down in a bid to fake prosperity), sixty-six persons employed by government and the usual collection of nondescript husbands, wives, children and those living in sin.

In terms of economic viability, the town was on its tush; because the town looked depressed potential new settlers and investors thought it was depressed, so continued on their way to find new opportunities. Townspeople feel depressed by that neglect which tends to be coupled with a decrease in sexual activity so the Mayor and city administrators were in a frenzy committing adultery to try to halt the town's population dive. They were rather successful but their own work efficiency took a hammering and their wives and mistresses began complaining of neglect. This suggested a vicious cycle gripped Tush.

The town's principal industrial and manufacturing activities were few. One very profitable one was acting as a noxious dumping ground for all communities within 200 miles because in the town square of Tush lies an orifice two and a half miles deep – a disused mine shaft called the Enculer Venture drilled by the Ménage à Trois Consortium in 1901.

The town had a storage facility which supplied Indian Curry to ten adjoining States, another supplying blended teas from England to thirteen states and a huge distribution centre that used to distribute throughout America second-hand bicycles imported from China until Henry Ford and others like him put an end to that trade with their four-wheelers that usually were propelled without the need to pedal.

With Tush teetering on a downward spiral, along came Antoinette Champollion, an immigrant on her way to a distant city She stopped for coffee and was unexpectedly seduced by Mayor Beyer. That experience set in motion the most historic event in the history of Tush – not the Mayor's ejaculation but rather the decision of Antoinette to stay in this town after finding its First Citizen so affable whereas until then she'd found Americans to be somewhat stuffy – so 'uptight when upright' as she'd later say when as Mayor she officiated at the re-naming of Tush.

Within a few days the Mayor and entire council including one woman were contributing to the sexual needs of their new citizen who had promised to give the town a shot in the butt by establishing a new business venture. Antoinette wrote (this was 1944 remember) to her father who was assisting the American forces after the German's surrendered Paris in June. Her father Armande was inventor of the inflatable prophylactic (which is why he was assisting American troops).

Staggered by the intense interest shown in his products, Armande's rubber vulcanizing company began producing them flavored with liqueurs, The boisterous American troops found Crème de Pêche was the great favorite of French prostitutes while grateful freed French women of higher morals preferred that taste of cherry brandy. It remains unconfirmed but it is believed this is where the term later to be used for confectionary of 'All Day Sucker' originated and later translated into English.

In her innocence, Antoinette asked if daddy to send her product if he could find space in a ship returning to America. She wasn't to know American freighters were sailing full to France and returning virtually empty because the Germans had fled with all the paintings, great wines and cheeses. Daddy booked space on a ship that had expected to return empty from Calais and eventually three freight trains arrived from New York to the town of Tush where crates (there were no 48ft and 53ft International Containers in those days) were unpacked and the whole town turned out to lug the boxes to the huge vacant store donated to Antoinette by the Mayor and gratified council.

With one box holding five gross (720) rubber condoms, the community of sexually active adults of Tush would struggle to get through one box per day except during the spring flush and public holidays. Some clown reckoned at that rate it would take to the year 7237 for Tush to use up the supply but that theory croaked when it was pointed out that calculation overlooked the diminishing shelf life of the rubbers.

The Mayor called an emergency meeting of the community to discuss the problem. The meeting was going nowhere, which is common even today for civic meetings to discuss matters of importance, when Antoinette rose, revealing she was pregnant; she'd failed to be vigilant and was ridden bareback to suffer the consequences. Although not being Catholic she sensibly refused to go to the Mayor's sister who was the town's very unhygienic and illegal abortionist.

"We have a large hidden number of unemployed people in this town," Antoinette declared in imperfect American-style English. "Mr Mayor, I propose that the town administration place those people into rented suits or dresses and rented pickups (which by coincidence were in over-production) and send them out into heartland America to market our product – the town administration to receive 10 percent of gross sales receipts."

And that was how the small town of Tush boomed to achieve huge growth, establish its prophylactic industry and win the Chamber of Commerce of America's national award in 1945-6-7-8 of the nation's 'Enterprising Boom Town'.

Initially sales had been unimpressive with American men being too manly to put them on and their womenfolk being confused about which orifice they were designed for. But then Uncle Sam's Boys began returning home and with evangelistic devotion spread the reputation of Antoinette's condoms throughout the nation. It quickly became as socially important to declare ownership of three gross of Antoinette's condoms as it was to announce ownership of a new vehicle.

When Tush adopted city status, at the Mayor's request a letter from Antoinette to her father was returned by the ageing Armande to become centerpiece of a small shrine in the foyer of City Hall which contained examples of the development of French Preventatives from the intestines of lambs to rubber and on to latex and polyurethane.

And yes, although it was officially titled, 'Antoinette's Famous Letter to Her Father in France' it became known as 'The French Letter' after little Catharina Banks asked teacher Mary Ussher when the whole class was gathered around the display, 'What is the difference between this French Letter and the thingy dad calls his French letter?' Being an advocate of free speech Mary Ussher said, "Very little difference Catharina. You may call Antoinette's Famous Letter a French Letter in the project you present as a result of this visit and to the prophylactics production center if you wish."

As a result of that school visit to the production plant that spreads over forty-one acres, the red-faced Miss Ussher was presented with the usual gift – three gross of the latest factory output contained in one of the original boxes shipped in from France in late 1944.

In 1959 a day of mourning was declared in the town to mark the death of Armande Champollion. A public meeting was called for that evening by the Mayor, then aged ninety-four but claiming to still be sexually active. Guest of honor was Antoinette with her third husband and most of her thirteen children.

Mayor Konrad Beyer announced he would like the town's name of Tush be changed to Armande City. That precipitated a genteel debate because everyone there accepted their distinguished guest Antoinette was in morning. It soon became clear to the Mayor he had a fizzer on his gnarly hands – the name Armande appeared too feminine sounding to the males of the town represented at the meeting.

So he opened the discussion and the mixture of citizens ranging in all ages and level of education made their suggestions. The city's chief garbologists – whose activity had recently undergone a name change – suggested 'Fuck Stick City ' and was removed from the meeting by the enraged Sheriff Anna Lynn, widely known as Sheriff Anal. Other names were:

Prophylactics City

Pariser City

French Letter City

Capote Anglaise City, and

Love Glove City.

The suggestions stopped there and Mayor Beyer, known behind his back as Mayor Aspirin, asked Antoinette if she hand a suggestion.

Rising off her tush, the obviously pregnant woman, known informally throughout America as the Madam Durex, made a short speech about her accidental arrival at Tush in 1944, accidental entry into business, accidental rise to fame and said having attained American Citizenship she was glad to having made a contribution to the health and welfare of her adopted country.

"Mr Mayor, it would please me greatly if the proposal to change the city's name went to referendum with say five suggestions for the name change of which one would be Condom City. I was born in Condom, a town and commune in in southwest France in the Midi-Pyrénées region. The impressive City of Toulouse is the capital of that region. At that time my father, who was an industrial chemist, had taken an interest in the vulcanizing of rubber and one thing led to another and soon he was working on the concept of reducing the thickness of rubber condoms and increasing their appeal in appearance and delivery. So I propose the name, Condom City."

The Mayor hushed the applause. "I propose that the Council conduct a Citizen's Referenda forthwith but only with two choices: No Change or Change to Condom City. Please indicate your acceptance of this proposal."

Acceptance was unanimous, not surprising really because everyone either worked at the plant or had at least one family member working there and everyone in the town could go to the plant and receive free product samples.

After the votes were counted it was found support for the name change easily out-stripped the seventy percent support required to effect change.

And that's how Condom City was so-named. Today it is one of the most visited cities off the beaten track in America – easily seen in the distance by the latest sample of product floating above the city as a giant dirigible, the condom being the perfect shape for an airship.

THE END