The Adventures of a Virgin.
My mother and sister are in town. I'm loving having some San Antonians around, but they're seriously cramping my blogger-dater lifestyle. It'd be hard to go out on a date and bring the fam along.
So, to keep things interesting around here, I decided to post an entry I wrote in another blog-land, a long, long time ago and far far away. Here you go:
I decided I'd write about my original adventure. My first adventure as a virgin. I'd also like to say that although this one girl in particular will be the subject of this posting, she's not important or significant at all. she's basically as insignificant as adventures can be which is the reason I'm writing about her. It's also just a funny story.
I was a late bloomer in the self-confidence department. I didn't think I was good looking until I was about thirteen years old. I didn't think I was smart until I was fifteen years old, which is also the age that I thought maybe it was possible that a girl may even like me. It wasn't until I was sixteen that I got over my fear of intimate contact with girls.
Up until I was seventeen, I'd only kissed girls, and most of the kissing that I'd done happened after I'd been swilling whiskey for a few hours and started smooching on my drunk girlfriends. There were only a couple of girls that I had any serious interest in during my high school days but the thought of having sex with them paralyzed me with fear. Why, I really don't know y'all.
It's just the way it was.
I was completely inexperienced at anything beyond some good french kissing. I was also a melancholy young man that thought I'd die a virgin. You can ask my best friend Jennifer, because she sadly had to read long letters from me where I described my unfortunate, make-out-less destiny.
The first part of my freshman year at college, I really did a good job cruising down the road to my unfortunate destiny. I was depressed, had no friends, and worked at Goody's Resale shop. That combination is like one big suicide pill for you to swallow.
Something changed, however, towards the end of that school year. During the spring semester, when the weather started to warm up and the MSU sluts started their summer prowl, I all of the sudden became a confident and social person. I was ready to goddamn have sex.
My friends and I spent a lot of time at this hippie bar, Peasants, in downtown Lexington. Most of the people at this bar were regulars. On Tuesday nights, my crew and I would stand at the left side of the stage, dancing and listening to a band that usually sounded like the band that played the week before, and the week before that. From our regular spot at the left side of the stage, I had a good view of a girl that usually stood by the right side of the stage. She was petite, dark complected and very sexy, I knew from the way our eyes would meet from across the room that she was destined to be the mother of my children. Since I didn't know her name, I called her Cute Girl. It just wasn't a good night for me at Peasants if I didn't see Cute Girl and avoid talking to her.
I'm not really sure how long this went on. Awhile. But finally, one night when I was the perfect amount of drunk and Cute Girl and I ended up within close enough proximity of each other to lead to a conversation: I talked to her. I have no recollection whatsoever what we talked about. All I remember is when it was 2:00 am and the bar was closing, she asked if I wanted to go back to her place to hang out late-night and off we went.
On the walk to her apartment, I again have little recollection of what we actually talked about, but I do remember quickly coming to the conclusion that the future mother of my children was extremely self-centered and pretty much stuck on her self.
"I eat, and sleep music," she told me.
And I thought, "what a boring thing to say," so I said nothing and kept walking.
Back at her place, she played her keyboard for me and talked a lot about how she ate, slept, and shat music. At some point, she finally stopped talking and sat down next to me on the couch.
"I told her that I gave a really good massage"
I doubted I gave the best massage, but hoping the intimacy would get her to shut the fuck up, I said, "let me hook you up, baby girl."
So I did. And after I'd been massaging her back for maybe a minute or two, I said, "It'll be a lot better of a massage if you take your shirt off."
And I thought, oh Christ! That was a really stupid thing to say, she's not ready for me to see her boobies yet. But not wanting her to see my anxiety or have the chance to make any sort of response to my sleazy comment, I just kissed her instead.
After Cute Girl and I had been kissing and groping for a few minutes, I had the sudden realization:
I'm going to have sex with her.
I also realized this:
People do this all the time. They go to bars and bring back girls and the only reason why is to have sex with them.
I also realized this:
I will probably not want to call her tomorrow. She is just as bored with me as I am with her and I didn't give a flying blue fuck about her.
Y'all. I'm not sure how I didn't know these things already. Up until this moment, I really did not know that people had one-night stands. Or at least, I didn't think it was a common occurrence. I thought that was something people did in movies. I thought majority of the population only had sex with people that they were in love with. I only planned on having sex with people that I was in love with.
I was not in love with Cute Girl. I didn't even like Cute Girl.
But I was still making out with her and I was growing more and more anxious.
Somewhat unrelated: She was the worst kisser I've ever kissed. Seriously. Kind of unfortunate that my first adventure was with a really bad kisser. But she was the worst. She had a tongue that darted around like a snake striking. For real. Quick little jabs of tongue. Disgusting.
The more ambitious I got with my hands, the more she seemed freaked out. Finally, she pulled back and blurted:
"I don't want to do this. I'm not going to sleep with you."
I was baffled. Although I'd had my share of rejection, no one had told me point blank that they were not going to have sex with me. She said that she didn't want to be a tease but just thought she'd tell me straight up the way it was. She said she felt really awkward and announced that she was going to leave.
As she got up to put her shoes on, I followed her and pulled her back towards me. And she didn't stop me. There began make-out session number two.
At some point, I picked her up and started to carry her down the hall. As we kissed, I looked over her shoulder to see where I was carrying her: the bedroom. We approached the doorway and her eyes grew wide with fear as I gazed upon her bed.
Noooooo!!
And here is where the funniest thing I've ever seen during a make-out session occurred: with my arms wrapped around her waist, holding her against me, she threw out her arms and her legs and grabbed the doorway to stop me from carrying her into the bedroom.
It was one of the most cartoonish and ridiculous things I've ever seen.
This was also the point where my first adventure officially ended. Well, at least the making out part of it. I gave up on Cute Girl and went back to my dorm, only after stopping by Krispy Kreme for some doughnuts and a coffee. When I curled up in my bed that night, it was about 5:00 am and I remember the distinct feeling that although this night could easily be considered a failure, it was the start of something. The start of my journey down the slutty road of sloppy drunk kisses and commitment-free fornication.
To give myself some credit, there's a little spark of hope in every adventure I embark on. Although I certainly did not find Ms.Right in Cute Girl, I'm hoping that eventually my drunk kisses will lead to a relationship that consists of more than sloppy conversations in a smoky bar and awkward conversations in the morning as the hangover sets in. Despite my previous certainty when I was seventeen of my loveless future, at (almost!) age 25, I'm completely optimistic that I will find this person one day, which will be the happy finale to all of my adventures as a virgin.
