happy valentine’s; this is a memoir of sexual youth in deviance and train derailment
(let’s go to a little different of a place for this day of hearts and cliche kisses)
at 19, i was mentally elderly and going through a weird phase. i’d taken up with 18-year-old, boot-clad, marxism-promoting, anti-establishment, trenchcoat-clad county college go’er who for some reason sparked my interest.
we’d met, we’d flirted, we’d somehow gotten together, the poor boy and the fireball that was i, raining down upon the dinos. at some point, he’d confessed his virginity, which i had no problem with. shit, who cares when it is you boink? so there we were, on a slow ride and cusp of experimentation (on his part) and the day came (ha) where i went for the gold
he’d smuggled me into his home while his parents were out until the next day, past his tattling little sister and into the upstairs. events ensued, flowers fell, we chortled, we laughed, we chilled.
sitting on the bed in the buck, mid comfy conversation in his parents’ room no less, i heard a strange clank and tilted my head towards the shaded window.
“someone outside mate?”
“naw, they’ll be gone till the morning”
i pried my finger through the slats of the blinds and breathed, “..’cept they’re back now.”
his eyes widened, and with the next sound of a slamming car passenger door, he lept towards the window in a frenzy, pulling down the plastic to see not only his parents but extended family moseying up the drive.
“IN THE CLOSET!” he crowed
but before i had a chance, the kid threw me stark naked into his parents’ closet, slammed the door and ran to scope out the situation. now, i know i wasn’t supposed to be there but somehow being found stark nude in his parents’ closet seemed to be a hell of a lot worse of a situation than being found there in general. alas, there i sat, shivering and inexplicably nervous about the outcome.
thankfully, sooner than later, he returned for me to throw my clothes in the the closet, allow me to change, and transferred me to, yep, another closet but this time in his own room. much smaller, way more uncomfortable. i sat there like a discarded rag doll with my feet halfway up the wall and the rest of me shoved under long coats and avoiding discomfort on collected trinkets and boot wear.
with the closet a smidge open, i saw his ten year old sister saunter into his room and make her way up to the kid. he held out a tenner, she took it and smiled this wicked, devilish grin
“thank you for your patronage,” the little conniving weasel said as she skipped away readily. he was paying her for her silence.
i huffed in the closet. ridiculous, i thought, but not as ridiculous as the next steps i had to take.
the dude leaned down into the opening of the closet door and quietly said, “you’re going to have to go out the window”
“fucking excuse me?”
february, after snowfall, without a coat, at 9 pm at night, an entire family a floor below me from the second story and this guy wants me to shimmy on the rooftop to make a break for it.
“it’s the only way”
“you can’t be fucking serious”
“if you make your way around towards the kitchen, i can get you down”
“there’s snow on the roof..I..”
“I brought your boots up”
“oh my god, you’re fucking serious”
so there i was, one foot halfway out to a three foot roof canopy with about a one foot clearance of lack of ice or snow, gulping cold air and watching my breath float down towards the bushes that i half considered making a jump for and ending this entire fucking debacle. but no, i was gonna go for it. thank god timberlands used to be of great quality and treading.
i began the slow shimmy towards the kitchen patio. i watched a family member go to and fro the car, right below me, as i stood frozen like a deer in headlights. i thought, the ability to commit suicide on sight definitely eased the idea of facing total and horrendous humiliation by strangers in the event they happened to look up. crisis averted, i rounded the corner and waited a whole five minutes until boyo there appeared with a ladder.
apparently he managed to walk through his living room with this fullsize ladder without question of where he was going with it.
“hey” he had said
“hey” they had replied, as he mosied his way to the porch. no question. aite.
he propped it up, i scurried down, i booked to my car, i dove inside and began seriously reconsidering my dating habits. he managed to gather my things and bring them to me.
this dating scenario did not last.
but if you feel left out in the cold this valentine’s day season, remember, you could literally be out in the cold trying to james bond across a roof in an attempt to avoid embarrassment meltdown.
go buy yourself some chocolate mousse and consider yourself lucky!