It was hot. Tents and booths lined the street to the university bookstore, trying to pull new members into their clubs, sell freshmen posters of Einstein and 1920s Paris, and pass stacks of brochures to whoever would take them. I wasn’t really in any clubs, and the posters were the same ones that had been for sale last year. Besides, who wanted to be the third person on their floor with the same black cat poster?

“Hey, you have a minute?” A girl with short brown hair was just coming out of a tent with a sign reading “Healthy Campus Alliance”.

“Umm, not really… I–“

“I’m with the Healthy Campus Alliance,” she said, “Health insurance is really expensive after college, and the university health center is kind of out of the way, all the way past Mornard Hall. Did you know that college kids are some of the least likely to take advantage of preventative medicine, even if they can afford it?” She looked down the stack of books I was carrying. The top one, not for school, was about how to travel in Vietnam. “Is that any good by the way?”

“Uh yeah, no it is, well, honestly I don’t know, I haven’t read it yet.” She looked at me closely.

“I know what you mean. I hope it’s good. Anyway, according to our survey, one of the biggest reasons that people our age don’t go to the doctor is they didn’t know they should! Can you imagine? There are probably people all over campus with easy-to-fix health problems and they have no idea.” I agreed that this was probably true. People were passing by on both sides. I wondered how many of them had health problems, secretly ticking away. She was talking again. “Anyway the HCA is trained and certified by the university health center to raise awareness, and conduct free initial screenings. We’re all volunteers, and we’re trained, but we’re not doctors. If we spot something, you don’t have to worry, just got get it checked out.” She gestured at the tent behind her, a big white one with canvas doors. “It’s all private and all confidential. Also, if you complete a screening, you can get a $10 gift certificate to the bookstore.”

The inside of the tent was further partitioned into a bigger room, and three smaller rooms. The bigger room had a table with a stack of clipboards and a spin-the-wheel game. The wheel was labeled with all sorts of different health screenings that college students apparently weren’t doing. I read through the release on the clipboard, acknowledged that I didn’t have to go through with anything I didn’t want to, could ask for a third party to be present, and signed that I understood this wasn’t professional medical advice. Then I spun the wheel. Mole check, vision exam, hearing test all spun by in a blur before the needle finally came to rest on– “Testicular cancer screening! Even younger people can get cancer, and early detection–“ Was I really going to go through with this? Let some random person check my balls? I was given a brochure on testicular caner and led to one of the three smaller cubicles inside the tent.

Inside the cubicle was a small rolling cabinet with a box of gloves on top, a lamp, and a small padded table. “Hi, I’m Julie!” A girl looked up as I stepped in. She had red hair, freckles, and was wearing a lavender polo with the club name written in blue. Was this happening? Was I going to do this? Was she? Shakily I put my books and backpack down in the basket she offered, and automatically nodded as she went through the same information I’d just agreed to on the clipboard. I was nervously nodding as she talked. “So now I’ll explain the screening.” The polo was fitted, showing the curve of her boobs as she sat down on the stool. “You’ll come over and stand on these two yellow dots, then lower your pants. You’ll then feel my gloved hands check each of your testicles and penis for potential cancer, then you can get dressed and get your gift card. Step over here please.” It was happening.

I walked to the two yellow dots, just across from Julie. Siting on the stool, she was eye-level with my stomach. I stood there. “Umm, should I, like, now?” Reaching over to the box next to her, Julie pulled out two purple gloves.

“Yep, just let me get my gloves on.” I stood, watching her as she pulled on the gloves. First the left, then the right. Could people outside the tent hear? She looked at me, and I fumbled with the drawstrings on my shorts. Slowly I lowered them to my ankles, and stood back up. Julie rolled closer, “Here we go.” I pulled down my underwear, and straightened up. I stood, almost naked, with my penis and balls on display to a total stranger.

She spent a few moments gazing at my penis, before gently lifting it. She looked at it from both sides, holding it in her fingers, then turned her attention to my scrotum. I felt a trickle of sweat run down my side. Thank God I wasn’t getting hard. She was so close to me, and something about the texture of her gloves… I looked down and watched as her fingers began moving down from the shaft of my penis to the base, pushing gently.

She cupped my balls in her hands, and began touching them with her fingers. I watched as her purple fingers rolled first the right, then the left, then moved my scrotum from side to side so she could see it. Her fingers brushed the skin behind my balls. I always liked this, and suddenly I felt myself stiffening. Not now. Not now. Her finger gently pushed at the base of my scrotum, before moving back to my penis. I was almost fully hard now, and she slowly pulled my foreskin down, exposing my glans. After squeezing the glans, she slid the foreskin back up, and withdrew. She pulled her gloves off, and threw them in a garbage. It was finished.

I quickly pulled my clothes back on, and almost sprinted out of the tent. “Wait! Eric!” Julie came out of the tent, arm outstretched. You forgot your gift card! Also, we’re always looking for new volunteers. Here’s a brochure in case you’re interested.” And with that she popped back into the tent.