August 15, 1999. My high school sweetheart, Carolyn, was boarding a plane that would take her to college in California. We decided to break up when we went off to college. We were starting new lives, and all that jazz, and it seemed the sensible, reasonable and sane thing to do. I gave her a hug and kissed her. We smiled at each other, and said goodbye. That was the last sensible, reasonable and sane thing thats happened in my life involving women.
Part 1: The Most Doomed Hookup Ever
It is customary, when one gets to college, that you have a few hookups with near strangers you met at the dorms that want to exploit their newfound freedom and explore their newfound sexuality. I lived at home, so it wasnt nearly as raucous for me as some of my friends, but I did okay. Most of my friends got stuck in the Caesar Rodney dorms. Suffice it to say that I spent most of my time there. It was on the wrong side of the tracks. Notice the lack of quotes around wrong side of the tracks. Thats because it was, quite literally, just over the train tracks, and trust me, if you saw Rodney, youd know that whatever side of the tracks Rodney is on is the wrong fucking side. But let me tell you, there was no better place for my friends and I. There were six different buildings in Rodney. A through F. Linking the buildings together was the square. The quotes, if you dont understand sarcasm at all, are there to denote that the square was no such shape at all. It was really this amorphous polygon, if there can be such a thing, that changed shape every time it rained. We called it the Rodneygon, and it was our playground. No jungle gyms, really. There was only a picnic bench, an ashtray, and a decided lack of security. It was heaven.
One Saturday night in December we were all sitting on the bench smoking, like usual. Those of us that hadnt smoked prior to college felt we had some catching up to do, and went from zero to chain smoker in 2 packs flat. We always had a cigarette in our mouths, and as such, quickly learned 35,000 ways to light a cigarette. My favorite new trick was the one-handed match strike. I thought it made me attractive to members of the opposite sex.. Id peer out from beneath my fedora with a coffin nail sticking out from between my teeth, look dead into their eyes, cup my hand, light my match and mutter something Bogey said. Heres looking at you, kid. It only worked on film students, which was fine, because film students were the only ones I had any idea about how to talk to.
Anyway.
So were sitting on the bench, smoking and debating about the most efficient way to start a fight without having to be involved or identified, (The two main contenders were standing in a crowded subway car in a ski mask and screaming Abortion is murder! and running out, or putting up fliers that read, Steves mother is a whore. M. The logic being that in the first situation, people would begin to argue with each other, which would eventually come to blows, being in a subway car. In the second situation, everyone named Steve who saw the flier would lose his mind and commence to beating up everyone whose name started with M to defend his mothers honor.) When a girl named Alyson, The Really Cute Girl From My English Class to my friends, came walking into the Rodneygon. Wed had coffee a few times, and I like her. I was hoping that she liked me. For no reason at all, I decided to put my college freshman morality (defined as a complete lack thereof) to work and find out. I hopped down off of my perch and intercepted her. Hey. Did you read the book for class tomorrow? I asked.
Yeah. No small fucking miracle, either. It took me about a thousand cups of coffee to keep from dozing off. She replied. Feisty.
That sucks. I left mine on the bus, I think. I pulled a cigarette out of my pack and offered one to her. I peered out from beneath my fedora with a coffin nail sticking out from between my teeth, looked dead into her eyes, cupped my hand, lit my match and muttered, Mind if I borrow yours?
I lit her cigarette, and a smile crept across her face. It was the kind of smile that told me I had just done exactly the right thing. Sure, she said. Come on up.
And then we stood there for five minutes in near silence smoking our cigarettes. Seemed silly to put them out so soon after wed lit them. So the book was boring, huh? I was trying feebly to keep her interest piqued.
Yeah. I usually love Mark Twain, but I kept getting distracted by the fact that his main character was a lawyer named Puddinhead.
I have a theory. When women start to reconsider a decision regarding someone gaining carnal knowledge of them, they give the person in question a test. They set them up for a joke. If you want said knowledge, you must make them laugh. Scoff if you want, but Ive had way too much luck with women for a guy who looks like me. And Ive made a lot of women laugh. You do the math.
Could be worse. He coulda named him Crackhead. Probably woulda destroyed his credibility with the jury, though. I hear they look down on lawyers who twitch while giving theyre opening statements.
Laugh. Sigh. Slooooow smile.
I waited for her to drop her cigarette before I dropped mine. Then we walked inside. When walking up to a womans bedroom, apartment, dorm or any other place where romance may happen that you have to take stairs to get to, it is critical that you do not trip on the stairs. It is also critical that if you should trip, that you do not knock her down while you do it. In general terms, this is a deal breaker.
I did more than trip. I fell down the stairs. And I took her with me.
In the movies, whenever two people fall down at the same time, they tumble, they fall and they land face to face, completely unharmed, with the woman on top of the man, and her hands on his chest. They lean in to kiss, and something interrupts them and they get up. But that kind of shit never happens in real life.
Except for this one time.
The stairs were wet, and I slipped. I grabbed for the railing and got a handful of her coat. She stumbled backwards, twisted, and we fell. I wrapped my arms around her, not in a romantic gesture, but in the hopes that Id break her fall and this random hookup wouldnt end up as an assault charge. Somewhere between me slipping and us landing, God started liking me. We landed, and I didnt even get the wind knocked out of me. Swear to God. She looked me in the eyes and whispered, Patience. Slooooow smile.
She leaned in. Motherfucker!
We looked up to see a guy in a grey t-shirt and jeans bounding down the stairs at us. He was about six feet tall, and maybe 200 pounds. And he looked scared. Right behind him was a girl in a pink tank top. She was about five feet tall, and maybe 100 pounds soaking wet, which she was. Im going to fucking kill you! she screamed.
The guy leaped over the railing onto the stairs below us, and the girl stopped chasing. Next time I see you, Im going to fuck you up on sight! She looked down at us. Alyson, what the hell are you doing?
Dodging soon-to-be-injured frat boys. She said. What are you doing?
Preparing to turn them into recently-injured frat boys. And she turned around and stomped back up the steps.
I helped her up, and we proceeded to her dorm room. I was praying that God was still rooting for me, and that shed have a single. No such luck. We walked in the door, and her roommate was on the computer. Hey, Al. she said, without looking up.
Hi. Ducks fly at midnight. Said Alyson.
Her roommate looked me up and down, and gave Alyson a look that said Are you sure? Really?
Alyson smiled, and through clenched teeth said, Yes, Tedra. They do. Now please go check and make sure that they are flying.
Tedra grabbed a few books and left the room with a good natured, if not just a hair annoyed, Night!
She began to clear off her bed, and told me to make myself at home. I took off my coat and laid it across a chair that had no other clothing or personal affects on it. I walked over to her bed and sat down. She sat down next to me and put her hand on my leg. Want to watch a movie? she asked.
Sure. I said.
I have a problem. Whenever things are going well between myself and a member of the fairer sex, I look for clues that we may not be after the same thing. At the slightest hint of one, I panic and start worrying about making a fool of myself. This invariably leads to me making a fool of myself. Want to watch a movie? Was one of those clues. Could she have wanted to watch a movie all along? I mean, just because she kicked her roommate out with what I assumed was some kind of top secret girl code, and cleared off her bed when there were completely unoccupied chairs, and leaned in to my face while whispering seductively to me as she lay on top of me, and invited me up to her dorm in the first place as opposed to going to get the book and bringing it back down to me, that didnt necessarily mean that she wanted my wang, maybe she really just wanted to watch a movie alone with me. *Click* In the dark.
The room was almost completely black, except for the opening credits of The Maltese Falcon playing on the TV on the other side of the room. She walked across the room towards me and sat down next to me. Just then, the door burst open, and Tedra entered.
Im sorry, Al. But did you say the ducks fly at midnight? Or geese? And for that matter, was it midnight or one?
It was ducks, Tedra. She growled. And they wont fly at all if you dont go watch them right now. They will land in the morning.
In the morning? She looked at me again, incredulously. I suppose I should have been offended.
Yes. In the morning. Alyson shot back. Please.
Tedra, still appearing a little unsure, turned and left the room again.
About ten minutes into the movie, I was sitting up stock straight. I was determined not to touch anything or anybody. She leaned towards me and put her hand on my leg. And I I yelped. It was probably one of the least cool things I could have done at that moment. Actually, it was the least cool thing I could have done. I sounded like a newborn Chihuahua puppy. What the hell was that? She laughed.
Er, nothing. I just, um, I uh Are you sure you want to do this?
Do what? she asked, coyly.
Dammit. I shouldnt have said that. Im sure that somewhere in the mating rulebook theres an entire chapter about how youre not supposed to refer to sex to your partner before youve had sex at least once. Its like everyones supposed to be able to pretend theyre surprised that it happened, even though both parties were hoping it would happen at least an hour before it did.
Do this. I said.
I dont know what youre talking about. She whispered. And then she started kissing my neck.
That, of course, was exactly the right thing for her to do.
Ill spare you the details of who did what when and how, but suffice it to say that about twenty-five minutes, and about fifty percent of our clothes, had passed.
RING! RING! RING!
Your phone is ringing. I said between kisses.
Let it ring. She whispered in my ear. The machine will get it.
The machine finally picked up. Hi, this is Tidi and Alyson. Were not in right now, so leave is a message, and well gat back to you when we get in. BEEEEP!
*sob* Alyson? Its mom. *Sob* Please call me as soon as you get this. Its *sob* Its Grandma she-
Mom? Mom, whats the matter? What about Grandma?Oh, my God Oh, no Alyson started to cry. I didnt really know what to do. Someone should write a manual on what to do if a girl youre fooling around with suddenly gets news that her grandmother is dead. I touched her shoulder and gave her a look that said Are you okay?
Ho- hold on, Mom. She turned to me and said, Im really, really sorry. I just- I just Ill call you, okay?
I collected my clothes, got dressed, trying not to make too much noise, and kissed her on the forehead and saidm quietly, I can stay, if you want.
No. She said. Ill be okay. Thanks.
I walked out of her building and across the Rodneygon. I walked past Tedra, who was sitting on the ground with a book. She looked up and saw me, and went back inside. On the other side of the Rodneygon, a small, slightly damp girl was beating the everloving shit out of a big guy in a grey t-shirt with a blackjack. I rejoined my friends on the bench and took out a cigarette. Hey. How you feeling? Asked one of them.
I peered out from beneath my fedora with a coffin nail sticking out from between my teeth, looked dead into his eyes, cupped my hand, lit my match and muttered. Doomed.
Part 1: The Most Doomed Hookup Ever
It is customary, when one gets to college, that you have a few hookups with near strangers you met at the dorms that want to exploit their newfound freedom and explore their newfound sexuality. I lived at home, so it wasnt nearly as raucous for me as some of my friends, but I did okay. Most of my friends got stuck in the Caesar Rodney dorms. Suffice it to say that I spent most of my time there. It was on the wrong side of the tracks. Notice the lack of quotes around wrong side of the tracks. Thats because it was, quite literally, just over the train tracks, and trust me, if you saw Rodney, youd know that whatever side of the tracks Rodney is on is the wrong fucking side. But let me tell you, there was no better place for my friends and I. There were six different buildings in Rodney. A through F. Linking the buildings together was the square. The quotes, if you dont understand sarcasm at all, are there to denote that the square was no such shape at all. It was really this amorphous polygon, if there can be such a thing, that changed shape every time it rained. We called it the Rodneygon, and it was our playground. No jungle gyms, really. There was only a picnic bench, an ashtray, and a decided lack of security. It was heaven.
One Saturday night in December we were all sitting on the bench smoking, like usual. Those of us that hadnt smoked prior to college felt we had some catching up to do, and went from zero to chain smoker in 2 packs flat. We always had a cigarette in our mouths, and as such, quickly learned 35,000 ways to light a cigarette. My favorite new trick was the one-handed match strike. I thought it made me attractive to members of the opposite sex.. Id peer out from beneath my fedora with a coffin nail sticking out from between my teeth, look dead into their eyes, cup my hand, light my match and mutter something Bogey said. Heres looking at you, kid. It only worked on film students, which was fine, because film students were the only ones I had any idea about how to talk to.
Anyway.
So were sitting on the bench, smoking and debating about the most efficient way to start a fight without having to be involved or identified, (The two main contenders were standing in a crowded subway car in a ski mask and screaming Abortion is murder! and running out, or putting up fliers that read, Steves mother is a whore. M. The logic being that in the first situation, people would begin to argue with each other, which would eventually come to blows, being in a subway car. In the second situation, everyone named Steve who saw the flier would lose his mind and commence to beating up everyone whose name started with M to defend his mothers honor.) When a girl named Alyson, The Really Cute Girl From My English Class to my friends, came walking into the Rodneygon. Wed had coffee a few times, and I like her. I was hoping that she liked me. For no reason at all, I decided to put my college freshman morality (defined as a complete lack thereof) to work and find out. I hopped down off of my perch and intercepted her. Hey. Did you read the book for class tomorrow? I asked.
Yeah. No small fucking miracle, either. It took me about a thousand cups of coffee to keep from dozing off. She replied. Feisty.
That sucks. I left mine on the bus, I think. I pulled a cigarette out of my pack and offered one to her. I peered out from beneath my fedora with a coffin nail sticking out from between my teeth, looked dead into her eyes, cupped my hand, lit my match and muttered, Mind if I borrow yours?
I lit her cigarette, and a smile crept across her face. It was the kind of smile that told me I had just done exactly the right thing. Sure, she said. Come on up.
And then we stood there for five minutes in near silence smoking our cigarettes. Seemed silly to put them out so soon after wed lit them. So the book was boring, huh? I was trying feebly to keep her interest piqued.
Yeah. I usually love Mark Twain, but I kept getting distracted by the fact that his main character was a lawyer named Puddinhead.
I have a theory. When women start to reconsider a decision regarding someone gaining carnal knowledge of them, they give the person in question a test. They set them up for a joke. If you want said knowledge, you must make them laugh. Scoff if you want, but Ive had way too much luck with women for a guy who looks like me. And Ive made a lot of women laugh. You do the math.
Could be worse. He coulda named him Crackhead. Probably woulda destroyed his credibility with the jury, though. I hear they look down on lawyers who twitch while giving theyre opening statements.
Laugh. Sigh. Slooooow smile.
I waited for her to drop her cigarette before I dropped mine. Then we walked inside. When walking up to a womans bedroom, apartment, dorm or any other place where romance may happen that you have to take stairs to get to, it is critical that you do not trip on the stairs. It is also critical that if you should trip, that you do not knock her down while you do it. In general terms, this is a deal breaker.
I did more than trip. I fell down the stairs. And I took her with me.
In the movies, whenever two people fall down at the same time, they tumble, they fall and they land face to face, completely unharmed, with the woman on top of the man, and her hands on his chest. They lean in to kiss, and something interrupts them and they get up. But that kind of shit never happens in real life.
Except for this one time.
The stairs were wet, and I slipped. I grabbed for the railing and got a handful of her coat. She stumbled backwards, twisted, and we fell. I wrapped my arms around her, not in a romantic gesture, but in the hopes that Id break her fall and this random hookup wouldnt end up as an assault charge. Somewhere between me slipping and us landing, God started liking me. We landed, and I didnt even get the wind knocked out of me. Swear to God. She looked me in the eyes and whispered, Patience. Slooooow smile.
She leaned in. Motherfucker!
We looked up to see a guy in a grey t-shirt and jeans bounding down the stairs at us. He was about six feet tall, and maybe 200 pounds. And he looked scared. Right behind him was a girl in a pink tank top. She was about five feet tall, and maybe 100 pounds soaking wet, which she was. Im going to fucking kill you! she screamed.
The guy leaped over the railing onto the stairs below us, and the girl stopped chasing. Next time I see you, Im going to fuck you up on sight! She looked down at us. Alyson, what the hell are you doing?
Dodging soon-to-be-injured frat boys. She said. What are you doing?
Preparing to turn them into recently-injured frat boys. And she turned around and stomped back up the steps.
I helped her up, and we proceeded to her dorm room. I was praying that God was still rooting for me, and that shed have a single. No such luck. We walked in the door, and her roommate was on the computer. Hey, Al. she said, without looking up.
Hi. Ducks fly at midnight. Said Alyson.
Her roommate looked me up and down, and gave Alyson a look that said Are you sure? Really?
Alyson smiled, and through clenched teeth said, Yes, Tedra. They do. Now please go check and make sure that they are flying.
Tedra grabbed a few books and left the room with a good natured, if not just a hair annoyed, Night!
She began to clear off her bed, and told me to make myself at home. I took off my coat and laid it across a chair that had no other clothing or personal affects on it. I walked over to her bed and sat down. She sat down next to me and put her hand on my leg. Want to watch a movie? she asked.
Sure. I said.
I have a problem. Whenever things are going well between myself and a member of the fairer sex, I look for clues that we may not be after the same thing. At the slightest hint of one, I panic and start worrying about making a fool of myself. This invariably leads to me making a fool of myself. Want to watch a movie? Was one of those clues. Could she have wanted to watch a movie all along? I mean, just because she kicked her roommate out with what I assumed was some kind of top secret girl code, and cleared off her bed when there were completely unoccupied chairs, and leaned in to my face while whispering seductively to me as she lay on top of me, and invited me up to her dorm in the first place as opposed to going to get the book and bringing it back down to me, that didnt necessarily mean that she wanted my wang, maybe she really just wanted to watch a movie alone with me. *Click* In the dark.
The room was almost completely black, except for the opening credits of The Maltese Falcon playing on the TV on the other side of the room. She walked across the room towards me and sat down next to me. Just then, the door burst open, and Tedra entered.
Im sorry, Al. But did you say the ducks fly at midnight? Or geese? And for that matter, was it midnight or one?
It was ducks, Tedra. She growled. And they wont fly at all if you dont go watch them right now. They will land in the morning.
In the morning? She looked at me again, incredulously. I suppose I should have been offended.
Yes. In the morning. Alyson shot back. Please.
Tedra, still appearing a little unsure, turned and left the room again.
About ten minutes into the movie, I was sitting up stock straight. I was determined not to touch anything or anybody. She leaned towards me and put her hand on my leg. And I I yelped. It was probably one of the least cool things I could have done at that moment. Actually, it was the least cool thing I could have done. I sounded like a newborn Chihuahua puppy. What the hell was that? She laughed.
Er, nothing. I just, um, I uh Are you sure you want to do this?
Do what? she asked, coyly.
Dammit. I shouldnt have said that. Im sure that somewhere in the mating rulebook theres an entire chapter about how youre not supposed to refer to sex to your partner before youve had sex at least once. Its like everyones supposed to be able to pretend theyre surprised that it happened, even though both parties were hoping it would happen at least an hour before it did.
Do this. I said.
I dont know what youre talking about. She whispered. And then she started kissing my neck.
That, of course, was exactly the right thing for her to do.
Ill spare you the details of who did what when and how, but suffice it to say that about twenty-five minutes, and about fifty percent of our clothes, had passed.
RING! RING! RING!
Your phone is ringing. I said between kisses.
Let it ring. She whispered in my ear. The machine will get it.
The machine finally picked up. Hi, this is Tidi and Alyson. Were not in right now, so leave is a message, and well gat back to you when we get in. BEEEEP!
*sob* Alyson? Its mom. *Sob* Please call me as soon as you get this. Its *sob* Its Grandma she-
Mom? Mom, whats the matter? What about Grandma?Oh, my God Oh, no Alyson started to cry. I didnt really know what to do. Someone should write a manual on what to do if a girl youre fooling around with suddenly gets news that her grandmother is dead. I touched her shoulder and gave her a look that said Are you okay?
Ho- hold on, Mom. She turned to me and said, Im really, really sorry. I just- I just Ill call you, okay?
I collected my clothes, got dressed, trying not to make too much noise, and kissed her on the forehead and saidm quietly, I can stay, if you want.
No. She said. Ill be okay. Thanks.
I walked out of her building and across the Rodneygon. I walked past Tedra, who was sitting on the ground with a book. She looked up and saw me, and went back inside. On the other side of the Rodneygon, a small, slightly damp girl was beating the everloving shit out of a big guy in a grey t-shirt with a blackjack. I rejoined my friends on the bench and took out a cigarette. Hey. How you feeling? Asked one of them.
I peered out from beneath my fedora with a coffin nail sticking out from between my teeth, looked dead into his eyes, cupped my hand, lit my match and muttered. Doomed.
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I'll be seein' you tonight!