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For years I wanted to lose my virginity, but in high school I was one of those kids that had as much chance of that happening as Kim Campbell winning an election in Canada. Anywhere in Canada. But I'm in university now, right? Everyone gets laid in university. This past weekend I went to Ottawa to see some of the high school gang. This was the first time I got to see them in 1993. We all converged there from Toronto (Kemper), Kingston (Bailey) and Montreal (me). There we met up with Scott, his roomate Fran (a guy, and a real knob), Seed, Kyle, and his girlfriend Wendy (still in high school). It was really REALLY cold. I had never been there during the winter, I realized. After hanging out a bit, we went out to this bar. It was fun there, we had plenty of beer. They played great music and we danced up a storm. The best part was that Jen was there.(Note from 28-year-old self: "Ahh, yes. Jen W. That's the first of many important Jens in your life, son.) Jen, the one I fell in love with exactly five years ago when I saw her in my music class. God, she's beautiful. Nice. Smart. Tall. Brunette. I love the way she does just about anything. Not even close to interested in me.You sure about that?? She was dating Greg then, wasn't she? You're an idiot. We were having a really good time. They played "Even Flow" from that Pearl Jam group! I noticed that Fran wasn't with us. I looked around and noticed him with some stranger, some girl. I decided to bust his balls a little and said...something to him, I can't remember. It wasn't important. The next thing I know, there's this blonde girl right in front of me. "Hi! I'm Sharon!" she said. She was about four inches from my face when she said this. "This is my friend, Janet." She was the one dancing with Fran. I introduced myself and "went with the flow". Sharon and I excused ourselves and made out downstairs. "Things are going well," I thought. "She isn't stunning, but she seems interested in a good time, and so am I, so we're aligned that way. Good." Now I have to think of a way to get her from here to...to...Shit where am I going to go? She isn't from here, either!""Good planning goes a long way, I always say." Actually, you've never said that, but I think we start to after this weekend. Eventually I find an opening. Scott and Fran live in a one bedroom apartment. Normally they share the bedroom. Everyone wants to go to Hull to continue to party, including Scott. That leaves a few hours for Fran, Janet, Sharon and myself to do what we want to do. The plan was for Sharon and myself to use the bedroom until Scott got home; Fran and Janet would be in the living room. But when the bus came, Scott, too drunk to realize what was going on--with anything--missed the bus. I offered him cab fare. Free drinks. Anything if he would just stay away. But no. He wanted to go home. Okay...We ended up back at the love lounge, and it was awkward from the get-go. Scott changed into his clothes and fell asleep on the other bed in the bedroom. I was lying with Sharon in the other bed trying to get things started, even though we had no fucking clue what to do. I remember it like it was last weekend, even ten years later. I realized that I had no condoms, and that I had to prepare for what might happen. I asked Fran for help, since Scott was sleeping like a log, and he said, too loudly and indelicately, that "yeah I got rubbers in the top drawer there." He actually pointed to it through the door. I went back to Sharon. She was getting cold feet. She wasn't used to this sort of thing. She wasn't that type of girl. The ship was sinking, and sinking fast. Scott started snoring, and not just a little. It was all falling apart. Sharon was considering going home, even though it was -33 outside. I heard Janet moan softly from the next room. DAMNIT!! But somehow I managed to heat things up again ('cause you're so fucking cool!). We talked. We made out some more. We talked and laughed. We relaxed. I even got to feel a boob. Things were going to happen! I was going to get laid! Now Scott and Fran developed a language in the five months they were living together. They started to talk like idiots, basically. Earlier in the night I learned that Fran had a habit of using the word 'slut' the way people would use the word 'guy'. He would enter a room and say, "Hey, you sluts! How're y'all doin'?" He was from the sticks, I think. So he barges back into the bedroom, wakes Scott up to bitch about the snoring, then the garbage, then some other household duty. Finally after hours (it was probably 2 minutes), he leaves, but not before signing off with, "See ya later, SLUTS!" Jesus Christ! I FUCKING REMEMBER THAT! How could he be so fucking STUPID?? It was the worst possible thing that could have happened. He indirectly called her a slut after she told me that she was worried about her reputation. Sharon bolts. I try to at least get her to stay because of the cold, and to forget about...doing anything. But she wasn't having any of it. She took off. Janet apparently wanted some action or she would have seen her friend home. Yeah, I thought that odd at the time. I thought that girls watched out for each other, and they do, unless they are on the verge of landing some guy for the night. You'll find that we're not so different, the sexes. "See ya later, sluts." I was razzed about that for six months afterwards. Get used to it, kid. The next morning I woke up and Janet was gone. "So'd'you fuck that girl last night?" Fran asked. Scott was still dead to the world. "No, you stupid fucking IDIOT! YOU DROVE HER OUT OF THE HOUSE, REMEMBER????" I thought. "No," I said. "You?" "Naw." He paused, then his face became like that of a really satisfied cat. He made the wanking gesture and said, "I caaame." I think he drooled when he said that. "She gives a mean handjob." Christ, was I ever disgusted. You should be. Fran was a boor, but you might want to look at yourself, there, too. What would you have done or said if you had "scored"? Think about that. Think about the entire night. Just because you blew your chance with Jen eight months earlier-- SHUT UP! Just SHUT. UP. Hmmm...Okay. I've said enough. I think something got through to you, though. I can feel it. What are you talking about? Is this a dream? Who are you? Hey? Are you there?? HEEEY!! ... ... ... Who WAS that guy? 3 scrawls at the end of this hallThe look: The feel: The taste: ________________________ |
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