did not happen when I was seventeen. When that ginger vixen Rachael hit me on IM and said:
fred if i were an ice cream cone…. how would u eat me?
I lobbed back some smooth, smooth wit. I joked that I was:
lactose intolerant. so trick question rachael lol.
Then Friday night after the football game I was in her bedroom with her and Amanda. Rachael cleared her throat and Amanda gave a real sly nod and proclaimed she had to go downstairs and make a phone call. Then it was just me and Rachael. Alone in a room with all the necessary hormones and anatomy to engage in humanity’s most beautiful dance. Something I hadn’t consciously realized. I didn’t realize I had a green light to Pound Town. I didn’t realize that if I tripped she would have caught me with her vagina.
She rubbed my thigh and said we should take a Cosmo sex quiz. I was like: yeah, let’s take a Cosmo sex quiz. I couldn’t stop laughing at the questions. Shit like: do you frequently nibble on your boyfriend’s testicles? The words frequently and nibble in conjunction were what got me. Isn’t this a nice, pleasant time Rachael. I really thought that Amanda was outside making a phone call and that Rachael wanted to have a laugh at Cosmo with me. Jack Sparrow frowned from the wall and Rachael started to sulk. And I thought this meant she was tired so I sprung off the bed and said I’d let her get some sleep. Drove home and jacked off furiously wondering why no girls liked me. How the non-virgins gods of high school had ever managed it. How how how.
My ancestors wept that night. I have important balls; if I do not reproduce then the family line dies. And that notwithstanding, a high school hookup would have changed my life. Because boys are sexual camels. A young male can go years on the confidence bred by a single movie theater make-out. Now imagine sex. If I’d gotten it in on that September night I’d be supreme potentate of the solar system by now. Or at least a banker.
The easiest hookup of all time did happen when I was twenty-three. Me and a Chinese girl. April 2011. I was in the Coco Park Starbucks in Shenzhen and she just came up and said: excuse me, can we make a friend.
She had these very pink lips and this cute bright face, like life was an amazing thing. Just standing in front of me. Which is something that usually only happens to women. Men just materialize in front you all the time with some kind of pitch. The wording doesn’t matter because it all inevitably translates out to Iwanttofuckyou.
So here I was in an alternate universe, experiencing an absolute anomaly. It was like in dreams where the fucking just happens, no roadblocks or friction. The girl who wanted to make a friend said her name was Amy. I said that I drink beer with my friends, so we went to drink beer, then we went to her place on the 28th floor of the LV Gem Plaza by the Hong Kong border, and in her room she jumped on me, and the whole time I was watching us in the window reflection, superimposed over the skyscrapers, because of course I was, and then Young Fred had himself a layup.
A sweet contrast to having to smirk while crawling over broken glass to impress American women. I thought Amy wanted me for my English but it was something else. I think it was for a memory. Two weeks later she cut it off because she was about to get married. Which I didn’t know. Now I’ve sewn the karmic seeds for my future wife throwing it to a Chinese dude right up until the altar. What have I done. Oh well.
Now it’s good because I have this story in my back pocket. Because if a girl I like mentions fucking a dude while traveling in Madrid, then every time I think about Madrid, Spain, the Spanish language, or even Taco Bell I want to throw myself out the window. I’m a Scorpio. But at least I have Starbucks. Now she has to get jealous whenever she sees a Starbucks. I think I win. I’m such a child.