Candidates in the 2007 Thai election had modernized the old vote-buying tactics by giving out Viagra, since traditional gifts such as money, t-shirts, and beer have been banned by law. A PPP politician claimed to have witnessed a rival distributing the sexual aid to older voters. Viagra is readily available at most Thai pharmacies, although 300 baht price the pill out of most Thais’ budget.

Still I would stay alert for heavy-breathing older men during this election season.

No Viagra-distributing politicians sought my vote, for non-Thais are disenfrancished from the electoral process, plus I’m not a big Viagra fan despite having suffered the shame of penile dysfunction at several inopportune moments.

While living in New York, I was madly in love with one woman. She was blonde, a model, smart, funny, but we were doomed to be just friends, then one wintry evening we drank ourselves past the portals of inhibition. She invited me back to her apartment. We made out on her sofa. This wasn’t only about sex. I fantasized more about her as a girlfriend. Somebody to love. After ten minutes she suggested sharing a shower. We stripped naked in the bathroom and stepped under the hot water.

All systems go.

Except for one.

My penis was as flaccid as al dente spaghetti and nothing could resurrect it to a heroic hardness.

“Don’t worry, this happens to all men,” she told me later in bed.

I never got a second chance.

This was not a one-off occasion either and as someone once wrote, “Fear is the first time you can’t get it up for the second time, but terror is the second time you can’t get it up for the first time.”

I became a eunuch with women.

A friend pitied my plight and repeated the blonde’s statement. “It happens to everyone.”

The excuse sounded no better coming from his lips, except he added, “But never with this.”

A blue pill was pinched between his thumb and index finger. “Viagra.”

“Viagra’s for old men.”

“You’re closer to 70 than twenty. Next time you get the green light for consensual sex, drop it 30 minutes before getting in the taxi. You won’t have softieitis. Trust me.”

I thanked him and stuck the pill in my wallet.

It remained a useless bump for months.

Every woman in New York seemed privy to my failing with the blonde.

I seemed doomed to celibacy, until one night after I read THE HOLE OF HEAVEN at Joe’s Pub an attractive artist offered to buy me a drink. I thought her gesture was a compliment for my literary prowess, but an hour later we were in a taxi, heading to her Soho loft. She filled my ear with whispered desires. My libido responded au natural, however the doubt created by previous debacle was spreading southward.

the taxi stopped before her loft building, I paid with a $20 and also surreptiously withdrew the linty Viagra pill. I swallowed it, as she fumbled with her keys. We had two glasses on wine on her sofa and she said, “I’m going to change into something more comfortable.”

“I can hardly wait.”

“Why don’t you come help me?” Her hand guided me into the bedroom, where she opened a closet of lingerie. “What color do you like?”

Other men had heard the same line. I didn’t care, because the Viagra had struck with an unexpected ferocity.

“Black.” My second choice was red.

“It’ll only be a minute.” She changed into a push-up bra, g-string panties, garters, silk stocking, boa feather high heels. Her smile widened lasciviously with a glance at my trousers. “You like what you see?”

“Yes.” I was no lie, except without warning blood was pounding through my temples as if I was seconds away from transforming into the Hulk. Closing my eyes barely relieved the pain and this agony was joined by a variety of other unforeseen reactions. My body shivered with a strobe of hot flashes and my heart was bodychecking against my ribs.

“Are you all right?” My hostess was genuinely concerned for I could feel my face burning with blood.

“I don’t feel so good.”

More like I was minutes away from a heart attack.

“Did you take a Viagra?” Her voice ran as cold as the first day of winter.

“Yes.” I was in no condition to lie.

“So I don’t turn you on enough?”

“Yes, but____” I never had a chance to explain about my problem with the blonde.

She shoved me out the door within five seconds.

Worst the headache would not go away and neither would the ungodly erection.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” My friend Jamie Parker shook his head upon hearing my story. “You only need Viagra for women with whom you don’t want to have sex.”

I wasn’t so sure about that, but swore never to take another and have been faithful to that vow.

Strangely the Pentagon dosed US mountain troops in Afghanistan with Viagra to help them deal with chasing the Taliban around the Afghan peaks. The test was cancelled after the religious right heard about it.

Soldiers with erections is not Christian.

And I agree.