This is a story about a man getting his penis cut off.
Now that I have your full attention, I do need to give some background, but if you’ll just keep that first little bit (so to speak) in mind, I feel you’ll be able to bear with me.
First off, this story was told to me by a man from Derry, and he was honest enough to admit that he did not know for sure if the story was true; he was also honest enough to admit that he didn’t care, because it was a good story.
Apparently, a little over twenty years or so ago, there were two people travelling (not together, although their paths did cross) around the Emerald Isle.
One was an American woman. She was married, but travelling alone, seeing the sights, and staying in hostels.
The other was a man, also American (I think), also travelling alone but out to see sights of a different sort,
He too stayed in hostels, but for a different reason. He was looking for young women, and he had a very peculiar method of attracting their attention.Whenever he laid eyes on a girl that he liked, he would wait until she fell asleep, take off his clothes, and crawl into bed with her. Supposedly (and if any part of the story is bullshit, this must surely be it), if the young lady had no objection to this, they’d have it on. If she became upset, he would jump out of the bed and apologise profusely, making some excuse about being drunk and getting into the wrong bed. He apparently repeated this behaviour all over Ireland without ever being apprehended by the Gardaí.
And then he made his was to Tory Island.
Tory (Toraigh), in case you’re unfamiliar with it, is a very small island about nine miles off the north-west coast of Donegal. It’s technically part of Co. Donegal, and therefore part of the Republic; but in reality it is, and always has been, a little country all to itself. The islanders even have a king (Rí Thoraí), who has no official powers. Technically.
I encourage you to study up on this place, both because it is unique and because this is not the place to explore it’s depths; but I do have to say that, despite it’s size, it is rich in culture and history; it’s people are quite friendly; and they do not tolerate misbehaviour of any kind. Ever.
And so our young man and young woman happened to find themselves on Tory at the same place and time, and stayed in the same place. I imagine they conversed; perhaps even became friendly, in the casual way that fellow travellers sometimes do.
And then one night, the young man made the mistake of a lifetime. He pulled his little “slipped into the wrong bed” routine with the wrong woman.
She not only became afraid; she became angry; and despite his usual denials of ill-intentions and apologises, she went berserk.
She hit him with a right cross and knocked him out.
She actually hit him so hard that later, she had to have her wedding band cut from her finger because it was so badly crimped.
But she wasn’t done.
Still in a state of fear and rage, she took out her pocket-knife and removed young Romeo’s member.
That’s a very vascular region; you can actually kill a man that way; and once she realised what she’d done, she fled towards the ferry back to Donegal proper. By the time the man was discovered (I’m told that his bit was surgically re-attached), she was on the mainland, hauling off towards, I’m assuming, Shannon airport.
But she never got that far; the Gardaí arrested her.
The king of Tory, who presumably had no official powers, demanded that she be returned to Tory, where he would participate in deciding her fate. The Gardaí complied.
After hearing her story, as well as similar accounts by other young women, it was decided that she had acted in self-defense, and so she was released without so much as a trial.
As a man, I can’t say that I didn’t shudder a little when I heard this story; as a man with a mother, wife, sisters and nieces, I have to say that I did more laughing than shuddering. If the story is true, I am proud of that woman; if it’s not, it ought to be.