The First Action
||Part 2, Paradise Missed
||Part 3, Poetic Justice
||Part 4, Thumbs Up 7Up!
I <3 NY
||Part 6, Junior Prom
The Most Important Girl
||Part 8, Julie
||Part 9, Yesterday Sucked
||Part 10, Between Friends
||Part 11, Questions Answered
Art School Confidential
||Part 13, Virginity Lost
Getting a new haircut
in the summer of '87 didn't change my love life much, but it gave
it a tiny pinch. I went from adolescent part down the middle and
bangs too short, to a "daring" spiky flattop. I bought into the
New Wave look and knew I was not yet the shit... but somehow closer.
was a girl that I'd been friends in school and we shared many
of the same issues (awkward behavior and naughty sarcasm). We
had gone to the Junior Prom together under the "just friends"
agreement much like Ducky and Molly. We stuck it out and prom
came and went, no bumps.
the couple in the middle. Talk about chemistry!
was a...it's a...prom was an important....Oh nevermind.
I don't remember the
reason we went out days after the Prom, but we found ourselves in
my beat up, powder blue, 4 door Ford Maverick heading west into
the mountains of Colorado. I think we each had the suspicion that
something was trying to happen.
Now remember, I haven't
gotten any cooler at this point. The new haircut and style didn't
miraculously make me charming and sexy. I was still a little boy
pretending. For instance as we drove into the hills I knew that
nothing was going to transpire if the wheels were spinning so I
used the following line:
"I don't wanna use up all the gas."
So she suggested we pull over. After we pulled over I expressed
my concern with leaving the car radio on.
"Now I'm afraid to use up the battery." I explained.
So we sat there in the
silence soaking up the awkward mountain air together. I'm sure it
crossed my mind to switch the radio back on but I didn't want to
look like I was wishy washy.
Nothing was happening.
We were each totally self-conscious teens fumbling over conversation
and destroying any chemistry we once had. So what magic line did
I come up with to move things along you ask? Well here it is:
"I'm so horny right now."
Yes, that's right ladies. Impressed? And I'm not even sure that
I was actually horny. Well, either way it must have been enough
because she agreed.
I remember questioning
where this was all going to take place. The steering wheel was surely
going to get in the way. I remember her suggesting the back seat.
I also remember expressing concern about each of us climbing over
the back seat together or separately. She reminded me that there
were doors on the car and that we could exit the car and enter into
the back seat through the rear doors. I was at the top of my game.
I was able to inspire
even more awkwardness when we got back there and we're staring
at each other,
"Well, shouldn't you take off your clothes or something?"
"Let's kiss first." She suggested.
"Oh yeah! Duh." The lines I was sayin' were smooth
and teasing. Yum.
It wasn't long
before I was on top of her, kissing her... and realizing that
I wasn't going to be able to perform. I was scared, babbling,
distracted and a flaming virgin. Then she sat up and unbuttoned
Now in the movies
this moment is what everyone waits for. Here in real life
however I was not excited, attracted or enjoying myself in
the least. And I was getting myself in deeper and deeper.
She laid down and
I resumed my position on top of her. I remember repeating
one line through my head over and over again.
"I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this."
pretending to know.
My kissing turned mechanical,
I stopped and put my head into her shoulder. I was trying to think
of what I could possibly say to get out of this. All I could come
up with was, "I'm not going to be able to go through with this."
She sat up, scrambled
for her shirt and cried. I apologized again and again, but nothing
can fix a situation like this. We got back into the front seat and
I drove her home while she cried and cried. She told me that she
really didn't like me anyhow and that she was mostly doing this
to get back at her ex.
I wasn't traumatized,
hurt or upset by the evening's events. I went home and slept fine
and never really talked to her again.
I was 18 years old. Christ.
I'm sure that her side of the story is much less flattering for