What We Make of It

What We Make of It:

Tony stood outside his family’s mansion just on the outskirts of NYC, staring at the heavy oak doors that his father just unceremoniously threw him out of. Howard had actually cut is 18 year old, graduate student off. Sure, he had threatened it a couple of times, but he hadn’t actually gone through with it before. A couple of calls to the bank after his ATM card had been denied had confirmed it.

Tony scrubbed his hand over his face, he could figure out finances until Howard calmed down. Tough love only lasted so long.

Rent would be due in a couple of days, and whereas Howard normally calmed down within a couple of weeks, Tony knew that he couldn’t let Rhodey down. He needed to figure out a way to make is $800 dollar portion of rent, and as of right now, he only had fifty dollars in his pocket that Jarvis had slipped to him on his way out.

Tony knew out of all of the things he was in life, adaptable was one of them.

If Howard wouldn’t give him the money for it, Tony would figure out a way to make the money himself.

A menial part-time job wouldn’t hack it, it takes weeks for payroll to get started, and rent was due in 2 days . . .

Inventing something would be no problem, he had a thousand ideas rattling around in his head, but getting the patent would take forever and then marketing the product and selling the product would take forever . . .

Giving plasma wouldn’t work, it didn’t pay enough and it was a sure fire way to make him tired, and pass out if he gave too much . . .

Tony continued to think, trying to figure out a way to make money.

He could always prostitute, but then again probably not the safest way to make money, plus the press would get wind of it fairly quickly and bad press and his playboy ways is what got him into this predicament to begin with.

He could go to a strip club, he was a fairly built man being praised by both men and women, but again the press . . .

Being a paid escort was out of the question, too many of his father’s associates had used many of the reputable companies, and the not too reputable ones was something that Tony was not willing to go to.

Then Tony remembered hearing one of his frat brothers saying that he made a hundred bucks donating sperm.

That could work . . . he had plenty of sperm going around.

Tony sighed, knowing that he only had two days to make the rent, so he popped open his cell phone and started looking for the closest sperm bank. He would go to four today and four tomorrow to get rent paid, and then Howard would have enough time to calm down for him to get back in his dad’s good graces.

Squaring his shoulders, he found the closet one, making his way through the doors.

Rent had to be paid, and damnit he wasn’t going to let Howard get the best of him now.

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Tony walked through the lobby. The waiting room was white and sterile with pictures of doting mothers (as if Maria was ever one) and pregnant bellies. There was no one else in waiting room, and for that Tony was thankful. He didn’t need anyone recognizing him.

He walked up to the receptionist, looking down, explaining that he was there to become a donor. Thankfully, the woman was too busy reading an erotic novel to even look up as she just handed him a clipboard of information.

No biggie.

General questions, name . . . (Edward Collins would work, not exactly a lie) weight . . . height . . . drug problems (not recently) . . . and family history issues (anxiety, perfectionism . . . did that count?) . . . intelligence questions . . . eye color . . . hair color . . .

Then there was a quick STD and drug test all done on premise. Apparently they liked everything to be done as quick as possible. That suited Tony just fine, he needed the money. He wasn’t going to let Rhodey down.

Then came the actual collection part.

Tony looked around the small room, there was a couch, a hard chair, a medical table covered with paper. There in the corner where the nurse had indicated was specimen collection jars next to a rack of porn magazines (he wouldn’t be touching that with a ten foot pool, thank you very much) and a porn movie playing on the TV on loop.

“Okay Tony, time to man up,” He whispered to himself.

Grumbling about how dropping his pants had gotten him into this situation to begin with (well and mooning the paparazzi), Tony went to work so to speak, focusing on the poorly made porn playing in front of him.

He closed his eyes, imagining himself with different celebrities or co-eds he had met on campus, allowing himself to get lost without having to worry about Rhodey or his parents walking in on him.

After 15 minutes, Tony capped up the specimen, cleaning himself up and tucking himself back in his pants.

One down, 7 more to go, he thought as the receptionist gave him a crisp hundred dollar bill.

He would do this. He needed to.

Tony went, and with Jarvis fifty dollars, he spent five a McDonalds on a caffeine and a cheeseburger. Jacking off always made him hungry. As he downed his food, he checked his voicemail. His mother had called, telling him that she was working on Howard while still admonishing him for his behavior, but it seemed like the man was sticking to his guns for the moment, and that he Tony needed her help, she would be home in a week from her shopping trip in Milan.

Well, at least he could count on his mom to help him out.

That was fine.

Tony polished off a second cheeseburger (don’t judge someone had handed him a coupon for a free burger), as he made he way to the second sperm bank repeating the same process.

He couldn’t think about the ramifications now, besides who would pick his sperm anyway.