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Part 1,
The First Action |
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Part 2, Paradise Missed |
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Part 3, Poetic Justice |
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Part 4, Thumbs Up 7Up! |
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Part 5,
I <3 NY |
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Part 6, Junior Prom |
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Part 7,
The Most Important Girl |
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Part 8, Julie |
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Part 9, Yesterday Sucked |
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Part 10, Between Friends |
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Part 11, Questions Answered |
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Part 12, Art School Confidential |
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Part 13, Virginity Lost |
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It
all began one fateful day with one singular action. It isn't marked
on any calendar and the time of day has long since been forgotten.
I was in the basement/activities
room of my parent's house, my parents weren't home, and something
was happening in my pants. I'd seen people pantomime the hand gesture,
but other than that I was never given any formal direction of how
this was going to happen.
Standing in the middle of the
room with nothing other than the pictures in my head (which included but
were not limited to Madonna's exposed belly, that car wash scene from
"Cool Hand Luke", and high school senior Nikki Burchett), I did what every
boy eventually tries his hand at. |
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Halloween
day 1985, Nikki Burchett (senior) sat on my freshman lap dressed
as a Playboy Bunny. She bounced up and down while all of her
flunky friends laughed at me. That was the greatest day of my
freshman year. |
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It didn't take very long for
that very special feeling to find its way to Mr. Happy and then "it" happened.
The most frightening bodily function that caught me completely by surprise.
Any enjoyment of the event was drowned out by panic and confusion. I thought
I'd broke something. I'd sprung a leak and there was no one around to
fix me. Pants still at my ankles I clumsily shuffled off to the bathroom
and tried to clean myself up without looking. I thought sure there'd be
blood involved somehow.
I pulled up my pants and quickly
cleaned up the crime scene in a total panic. Then I sat down in a chair
and started to worry. What did this mean? Should I see a doctor? What
did God see of that? How do I keep this a secret from the rest of the
world? How do I get my hands on some cleavage and put aside enough time
in my life to do this every single day until I die?
This is when all of my problems
started.
And
so my hopeless bout with lameness began. What followed were a slew
of catastrophic (or so it seemed) girl-encountering-bloopers that
built the man you see before you today... whatever your opinion
may be.
In high school,
Art was always my shining subject. I loved the class and it loved
me. This is what I attribute to the next girl having her momentary
attraction to me.
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Kristy
Timmons was a hot-n-sassy Heavy Metal chick in my art class
who on occasion would acknowledge my existence in a friendly
manner (believe me those occurrences were few and far between
in high school). Five minutes before class would end everyone
would stand and mill about anticipating the bell.
Let me
remind you that there was no thought in my head to the effect
of me being attractive. On my best day, squinting in the mirror
steamed over with 50% visibility I could fool myself into
"a-face-with-character". |
So I'm standing
at my drawing table and I feel a slight pressure on the backside
of my Sears Plain Pocket Denim Dungarees. In about a ten second
time frame it turned from a small feel into a full and complete
squeeze. I leaped, chirped a girlish "OOP!" and turned
about. There stood Kristy smiling with her hands where my butt once
was.
"What are you
doing?!" I yelped.
"What?" She smiled coyly.
"How would you like it if I did that to you?!" I proclaimed (insert
Peter Brady-esque cracking here).
"Fine! Go ahead" she laughed. Then she turned, invitation on the
table. My smart-aleckness was quickly cornered. The spectacular
notion of actually touching a girl's butt stood zero chance against
my terminal case of lameness.
"I'll do it!" I babbled , hoping I'd somehow be let off the hook.
"You're crazy! I'm not going to do that here in front of everyone..."
and a string of wickedly unimpressive excuses exited from my mouth,
thus concluding this encounter. The bell had rung and she was walking
away, bedazzled I'm sure. |
Is
it hot in here or is it just me?
A Normal Bob Smith hot tub moment. |
I
believe that I stood there by myself a good minute and a half searching
aloud for that perfect comeback to fix the situation. None was to
be found.
I didn't realize
until I was in the hall that I'd actually "messed" my tighty-whities
as a result of her initial advance (and I'm not talkin' #1 or #2).
I think that was the only time I'd ever done that without any actual
physical stimuli. Christ, I was such a cherry.
You can believe
that I was all ready if she were to ever try that again, but of
course she never did... and I wouldn't have been anyway.
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