1: You were a junior who knew exactly what you were doing. I was a freshman who was ready to give it up. We met in an innocuous way; I don’t recall exactly how. One day we went into the woods behind the dorms to smoke pot. On our way back, you asked me whether I believed in friends having sex. I said I did. We watched Killing Zoe in your common room and then you walked me home. My roommate was away. You lay on my bed and wanted me to undress in front of you. We did it. I wasn’t sure what to do other than lie there and think, “Holy shit, I’m having sex.” After you left, I felt awesome. I was part of the club.
2: I never liked you, but you gave good head. I’d sometimes invite you over if you agreed to perform the act and then leave. And you would. You wanted me to lie to your mother about my age. I used to ask you to buy for me and my friends, but never invited you to drink with us. You ended up being kind of a stalker, and you were definitely too old for me. You cried like a little bitch when I dumped you. You had a tacky waterbed and a crappy car.
3: You were a sweet, dumb ballplayer. I met you online. You colluded with one of my good friends and drove sixteen hours to meet me. You showed up at my door late at night and greeted me by saying, “Hey goofball.” You brought a friend who ended up contracting gastroenteritis. He was in a lot of discomfort, so we generously let him stay in my room while we boffed in the study lounge with the couch blocking the door. The following month, I visited you over spring break. We shared a week of debauchery and experimentation. After that, it had clearly run its course, but I was still hurt when we stopped talking.
4: You were a long-distance love. We had drama and sweetness and something that definitely mattered. But the friendship we have now is better, so that’s all I’ll say.
5: You were the rebound from the long-distance love. We had been hooking up on and off since freshman year, so it was sort of a foregone conclusion. Afterwards, you said it didn’t seem like I was into it. I wasn’t. You used to always give me wicked makeout burn from your goatee.
6: You were the friend of a friend, someone fun and nice with rugged good looks and a nipple ring. We met freshman year and then re-met sophomore year. I had fun hanging out and getting drunk with you and our shared friends. We existed in a bubble of good times.
7: You were a waiter at Denny’s. And you were French. I was a girl with a summer to kill. You gave me your number while I was having late night coffee and smokes with my friends. I invited you to a party my sister was having at my parents’ house while they were in California. For the rest of the summer, I’d invite you over after work, and then hustle you out 30 or 45 minutes later. That was pretty brazen in retrospect; my parents were downstairs. In August, you started to annoy me and I ditched you at a party. I’m sorry I was mean to you; you were a nice kid.
7.5: We never had sex but you are worth mentioning. You were a friend of my roommate's fiance. You had already graduated and had a job. And you were gorgeous: tall, dark and handsome, wearing a preppy L.L. Bean sweater under a puffy vest and a baseball cap pulled low over your eyes. You drove a Jeep wth removable doors, which you brought inside. We hung out at my apartment, drinking, watching scrambled porn, and waiting for the others to drift off to bed. When we were finally alone, we stretched out on the couch under a blanket and finally started making out. But it was extremely late and we were too tired to take it very far. I went to bed. The next morning, you and your doors were gone.
8: You… who the hell were you? Some guy I met out, whose last name I don’t know, a week or so before I left for my semester abroad. Your friend bought my friend a drink. We took you and your buddies back to my other friend’s house to drink vodka and hang out, but your friends weren’t cool at all. I guess you probably weren’t either, but you were good enough for a romp in my backseat in the parking lot of my high school before I dropped you off at home.
9: You were Scottish and totally cute. We met in a club in Edinburgh and acted like we had been together forever. We had an amazing connection. You were a smart dresser and had funky glasses and wild, sticky-uppy hair. You carried around business cards with your roommates’ and your name and contact details on them. When I returned to Edinburgh, we resumed as if no time had passed. The first night we were all over each other. The second night we were supposed to meet at this club/gothic church, but you got drunk watching soccer, passed out, and never made it. I was highly disappointed.
10: You and I, we had unfinished business. You were a frat boy who lived locally but went to school out of state. We met freshman year and did plenty of groping but never sealed the deal. The summer after junior year, you called randomly. You must have looked me up, because I never gave you my number. You were home and wanted to meet up. We went to your mom’s house. We played drinking games with your brother and you played Simon & Garfunkel’s “The Boxer” on max volume because it was one of your favorite songs. When we headed off to bed, I saw my name and number on a scrap of paper on your bedside table. I fell asleep with my contacts still on. In the wee hours of the morning, I left you passed out and drove home.
11: Two weeks after #10, I met you. We had a week-long first date and have never stopped talking or seeing each other since. You became my husband and father to our gorgeous child. You’re the end of my list. I’ll never need a #12.
2: I never liked you, but you gave good head. I’d sometimes invite you over if you agreed to perform the act and then leave. And you would. You wanted me to lie to your mother about my age. I used to ask you to buy for me and my friends, but never invited you to drink with us. You ended up being kind of a stalker, and you were definitely too old for me. You cried like a little bitch when I dumped you. You had a tacky waterbed and a crappy car.
3: You were a sweet, dumb ballplayer. I met you online. You colluded with one of my good friends and drove sixteen hours to meet me. You showed up at my door late at night and greeted me by saying, “Hey goofball.” You brought a friend who ended up contracting gastroenteritis. He was in a lot of discomfort, so we generously let him stay in my room while we boffed in the study lounge with the couch blocking the door. The following month, I visited you over spring break. We shared a week of debauchery and experimentation. After that, it had clearly run its course, but I was still hurt when we stopped talking.
4: You were a long-distance love. We had drama and sweetness and something that definitely mattered. But the friendship we have now is better, so that’s all I’ll say.
5: You were the rebound from the long-distance love. We had been hooking up on and off since freshman year, so it was sort of a foregone conclusion. Afterwards, you said it didn’t seem like I was into it. I wasn’t. You used to always give me wicked makeout burn from your goatee.
6: You were the friend of a friend, someone fun and nice with rugged good looks and a nipple ring. We met freshman year and then re-met sophomore year. I had fun hanging out and getting drunk with you and our shared friends. We existed in a bubble of good times.
7: You were a waiter at Denny’s. And you were French. I was a girl with a summer to kill. You gave me your number while I was having late night coffee and smokes with my friends. I invited you to a party my sister was having at my parents’ house while they were in California. For the rest of the summer, I’d invite you over after work, and then hustle you out 30 or 45 minutes later. That was pretty brazen in retrospect; my parents were downstairs. In August, you started to annoy me and I ditched you at a party. I’m sorry I was mean to you; you were a nice kid.
7.5: We never had sex but you are worth mentioning. You were a friend of my roommate's fiance. You had already graduated and had a job. And you were gorgeous: tall, dark and handsome, wearing a preppy L.L. Bean sweater under a puffy vest and a baseball cap pulled low over your eyes. You drove a Jeep wth removable doors, which you brought inside. We hung out at my apartment, drinking, watching scrambled porn, and waiting for the others to drift off to bed. When we were finally alone, we stretched out on the couch under a blanket and finally started making out. But it was extremely late and we were too tired to take it very far. I went to bed. The next morning, you and your doors were gone.
8: You… who the hell were you? Some guy I met out, whose last name I don’t know, a week or so before I left for my semester abroad. Your friend bought my friend a drink. We took you and your buddies back to my other friend’s house to drink vodka and hang out, but your friends weren’t cool at all. I guess you probably weren’t either, but you were good enough for a romp in my backseat in the parking lot of my high school before I dropped you off at home.
9: You were Scottish and totally cute. We met in a club in Edinburgh and acted like we had been together forever. We had an amazing connection. You were a smart dresser and had funky glasses and wild, sticky-uppy hair. You carried around business cards with your roommates’ and your name and contact details on them. When I returned to Edinburgh, we resumed as if no time had passed. The first night we were all over each other. The second night we were supposed to meet at this club/gothic church, but you got drunk watching soccer, passed out, and never made it. I was highly disappointed.
10: You and I, we had unfinished business. You were a frat boy who lived locally but went to school out of state. We met freshman year and did plenty of groping but never sealed the deal. The summer after junior year, you called randomly. You must have looked me up, because I never gave you my number. You were home and wanted to meet up. We went to your mom’s house. We played drinking games with your brother and you played Simon & Garfunkel’s “The Boxer” on max volume because it was one of your favorite songs. When we headed off to bed, I saw my name and number on a scrap of paper on your bedside table. I fell asleep with my contacts still on. In the wee hours of the morning, I left you passed out and drove home.
11: Two weeks after #10, I met you. We had a week-long first date and have never stopped talking or seeing each other since. You became my husband and father to our gorgeous child. You’re the end of my list. I’ll never need a #12.
4 Comments:
This comment has been removed by the author.
Ooooooh. Great idea for an entry.
Awww, that's kind of cute in a disgustingly raunchy roundabout way.
What comment was deleted up there???? hmmmmmmm......I like lists:-) Lists are fun in a Socialist, spelling test kind of way...The #4 is the magic number, not 3 like De La Soul purports!
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