The Condom That Could
It’s Sunday, and I leave my dorm and stroll into the brisk morning air headed towards Barus and Holley for some wholesome time in the Brown Design Workshop. While walking, I glance left and right for the usual remnants of Saturday nights; crushed beer cans, vandalized exit signs, a television comedy skit show struggling to parody a political climate which has apparently become a comedy circus on its own, etc. However, there is a special something that catches my eye as I walk past the DPS station on Charlesfield street. I look down and, there, casually slumped upon one of the elegantly crafted concrete fence posts, lies an unraveled condom.
I can’t help but feel pity for the poor thing, as it sits there cold, naked, and without the seal of its protective wrapper. Of course I don’t move it because, like, ew. Leaving it behind for someone else to care for, I continue on with my day until returning to my dorm at dusk, when I find the same condom triumphantly postured in the same exact position. By the will of God, fate, or the random sequence of chemical reactions that lead the collective of human decisions, the prophylactic has not yet been removed. I pass by my sedentary friend and go inside, trying to block the image of that sad, lonely, and empty oblong balloon from my thoughts so I may work.
A week passes by and I do not think of him once. The next Sunday morning, I go out again to grab breakfast and see the condom laying there still, not by any lack of human interference to pick it up, but rather it has stuck through the days and nights because of its higher purpose. I take a closer look this time, inspecting the trojan for what it is. Perhaps it is an art exhibit put up by a RISD student? After all, it’s moderately picturesque. No, I decide that can’t be the case, because this isn’t art for aesthetic, this is art for a message. What message does this display? Well it has to be a provocative one, where the artist--who I’ve narrowed down to all sexually active Providence denizens and Banksy--is not afraid to challenge society. Perhaps the condom being placed so close to the Police Station is supposed to represent protection, and how DPS protects us from ourselves when we get rambunctious in the same way that a condom protects us from creating new iterations of ourselves when we copulate. Or, on the other hand, the condom being used and left there signals that the time for a police force that enforces laws is bygone, and it is time for anarchy. There is also a kid’s playground just a few yards away from this health-class-banana-cover. Could the non-biodegradable waste of the condom be a damning outcry against the global population for not doing more to preserve our children’s future from environmental crises? Maybe, just maybe, this proximity to the playground illustrates the attempted destruction of the innocence of our young by a media that promotes promiscuity and produces tv shows that portray, get this, non-straight characters.
While these are all possible explanations for the appearance and stay of our unexpected guest, I think it’s most likely a memento left by whatever rapscallion decided to start calling the Ratty the Rodent, as that person clearly enjoys stirring up controversy.Currently, the condom still stands strong, the symbol for Brown not that we need, but that we deserve.