I went to the art opening of Swallow Harder at the Frye Art Museum with a few friends last night. It was packed with handsome art enthusiasts, and everyone seemed to be having a good time (I’m more of a crowd watcher than art-appreciator).

I was crowd watching in front of a large pickle jar decorated to convey a “gay sailor fantasyâ€�, when a man sidled up next to me/the pickle jar.

We were standing in the center of the room. He was wearing a large, tan trench coat. And he was gripping—not shielding, but gripping—a huge erection. His huge erection. Both of his hands were positioned near the base of the shaft, rather like a gardener who double-fists a pernicious weed before yanking it out by its roots. The erection was thrust out there for God and Man to see. He did not seem embarrassed by it at all.

It was my first public erection sighting. The erection and I didn’t make eye contact. We didn’t speak. Eventually, he wandered to the corner of the crowded room (still with his hands full, as far as I could tell) to appreciate more art or something.

Either that man is really excited by gay pickle jars, or he mistook the intent of Swallow Harder.