When I met him, it set off a countdown. I knew how I felt about him, how I was halfway to being in love with him, so that little problem I'd ignored, that little problem I'd been putting off, like the Christmas tree that stays up way too long, I knew it was time to take care of it.
The virginity had to go. I'm sentimental about a lot of things, but losing my virginity wasn't one of them. I handled it like a bill that needed to be paid, a business merger, or maybe, taking out the trash.
I'd heard that shitty old threadbare excuse from most of my friends about how they thought they loved a guy because he was their first, and so on and boo hoo. These friends would usually end up telling me this after being in the relationship long after it passed its expiration date.
I had decided that before I got with this really great guy, that I needed to go out with not so great a guy, the understudy, so he could help me. I figured what I needed was a warm-up, to pre-game it with this guy so I would at least have a comparison between sex-sex and sex-love. Kind of like eating a burger, then eating a burger with cheese. I wanted to be able to sit on both sides of the fence.
I figured I had at least a solid week before Sumner (the lead, not the understudy) decided we should date. Then, on Friday, after work, Sumner asked me if I'd like to go out on his next day off, the following Friday.
That meant I needed to step up this plan. That meant I needed to get this shit done, so I called my best friend, Shayna (not her actual name, but I like to protect the guilty).
We planned to go to a party over at our friend Joe's house. We even brought my good friend, Jose, along with Jim, Jack, and Pierre (Smirnoff).
The understudy was there, and I remember sizing him up as I downed my first shot. Taking a deep breath (and shot number two) I sat beside him, feeling like I could see that game clock counting down. The sooner the better, I thought.
After about an hour or so, when we were both relaxed from alcohol, I still hadn't figured out how I was going to separate this sheep from the rest of the herd. My car? I didn't have tinted windows. The bedrooms? Out of the question. It would have to be the bathroom.
Just then, I figured out the perfect excuse. "I think I'm going to be sick," I said to him, "Would you show me where the bathroom is?" He even walked me to it, and as soon as we got to the bathroom, I pushed him in, and shot the bolt across the door.
"I'm not really gonna be sick, I just wanted to have sex," I said. I could see his head spinning.
Since it was my first time, there was quite a bit of awkward. I took my pants off, underwear, too, but I felt the need to leave my shirt on. Coat, too.
I laid down on the floor, looking up at the ceiling and waited.
What happened next I wasn't really prepared for. He was a nice enough guy, and instead of just jumping on the main course like I'd expected, he'd decided to try going down on me.
While he was down there, I remember all I could think about was the way he was sort of making these...snuffling sounds, and his nose would hit my thigh every once in awhile, and the most God-awful image came: a pig, a tiny little pink pig, hunting for truffles in a forest. I had to put my arm across my eyes otherwise I was going to lose it.
His next move was to try to put me on like an oxygen mask, so I sat up, condom in hand, and decided that I would get things back on track. Only...when I tried to put the condom on (and I had practiced, that very day. I had some old popsicles, and I used some of the colored condoms I had, I had practiced on them because they were the only dick-shaped things in my apartment) I almost put it on his finger. At least, it felt like a finger.
He took it from me, put it on, and finally, the previews were over, and the show was starting.
I thought I might feel some pain, but I didn't expect to feel almost nothing. It really was the size of a finger. A pinky finger.
At that point, I turned my head to the right, noticing the handsoap, the brushes, and in the corner of the bathroom, a little spider who'd stopped by to enjoy the show. After it was over, I was still looking at that spider, expecting him to hold up a sign like and Olympic judge. 3, or 2, or maybe .5, before scurrying away. Or maybe the spider was just waiting for me to bite his head off.
After that, I joined by best friend back at the party and we drank the rest of the night away. I remember deciding to pass out on a futon, facing the wall in Joe's bedroom.
I woke up the next morning, hearing a weird slurping noise. I was turning over to see what the hell was going on, when I heard Joe, our friend Joe.
I stopped myself from laughing, but couldn't stop my body from shaking, from holding in the laughter. I can't wait to tell Shayna, I thought. Then, Joe started to vocalise. I had to bite my lips together to hold the laughter in.
At the end of it, he managed to choke out five words. "Oh shit....oh damn....Shayna!"
And I snorted laughter out of my nose. I couldn't help myself. Shayna and Joe? I tried to make my face still. I heard Shayna jump out of bed. She ran over to me and kept asking me if I was awake. I pretend-snored, and mumbled something semi-intelligible.
After awhile of shamming sleep, I really did fall back asleep, and then Shayna was shaking me awake. On the drive home, I told her what happened, about the spider, about the truffles he didn't find, and we ended up laughing about it.
When she got out of the car, I rolled the window down, called after her. "I think Joe might have a crush on you," I said, gauging her reaction. She blushed a little, and asked me how I knew.
"Oh shit...oh damn...Shayna!"
This time, the spider held up a 10.