The first thing I notice is the screaming-pounding-throbbing pain that appears to be coming from the general region formerly occupied by my brain. By opening one eye I determine I am in a room, ok good sign, I'm not dead. Next I conclude there are other people in the room, well....this could be good or bad since I don't remember who I was with past dinner time last night.
I flop over and stare at the ceiling, ok I know Sarah and I drove to New York to see her friend and I know I started the night with her "friend" and another hot soldier. I get up slowly and move towards the bathroom or what I assume is the bathroom, thank GOD I got that right because whatever I drank last night was determined to see the light again.
After seeing to that I wandered around, I had two goals in mind, find Sarah and FIND MY FUCKING PANTS. Within a few minutes I had the pants....and I had found what I could assume was the owner of this room? sleeping on the otherside of the bed. I could tell two things, I didn't have sex and I was definitely on base in a barracks somewhere.
I poked him, nothing, I pushed him, nothing finally I SLAPPED him and he moaned and opened an eye. He remembered me thank god and informed me of a few things, I had refused to have sex with him (REALLY?) and that I had insisted he turn around while I took off my pants. Well, he had me mixed up with someone else, for sure, but that was low on the list after where the fuck is Sarah.
Turns out soldier boy didn't have a car and his buddy lived on the other side of base. Have you ever taken a walk in the July heat with a tequila and everclear hangover on a sunny day? No, well let me describe it to you. Imagine walking through fire and over hot glass while being burned by the scorching rays of the sun which are penetrating your glasses like hot pokers and causing you to sweat something that smells like tequila vomit.
His buddy lived two mother fucking miles across base. I swear to you it was more like 500 and by the time I got there I had devised about 30 ways I could kill myself and just end this misery. I dragged Sarah out, dragged her to her car and INSISTED we get a fucking hotel. I needed a shower, I needed greasy food and I needed to sleep in a cool dark room for about a week.
Lucky for me I got none of those. Well I got the greasy food and after the fourth or fifth "if you fucking touch me I'll cut your nuts off" soldier boy let me sleep it off in his bed (after Sarah gave us a ride back).
By 9 PM I was looking at a line of tequila shots on the bar while soldier boy got ready to take the lime out of my mouth and just couldn't remember....why did I swear I wasn't going to do this again? I know I didn't make him turn around that night!
Friday, February 4, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
The Cryer
For a while, I was hanging around this girl Jo, who I'd known in high school. She was my age (24 at the time), twice divorced and had recently moved home from somewhere down south. She was a tattooed, raging alcoholic, head case and she was a shitty friend but she made for a hell of a night out. Needless to say, there were lots of interesting men for me to meet through her, and her partier friends. Although we no longer talk (long, boring, shitty friend story) I can thank her for the memory of my night with the cryer.
Jay was a former Marine, the former part wasn't ideal but hey....my area isn't exactly crawling with Marines and as my Gram would say, beggers can't be choosers!! Jo insisted that I meet him and I kept assuring her, I was NOT interested.....until I saw him.
From the moment I walked into the tiny, dirty, slum bar that night our fate was sealed, I was going to have this man. The night found me sitting on his lap getting to know him while our friends decided what and where we were headed next. In the parking lot we decided to ride together to our next hole in the wall and off we went to the "turtle" together.
We didn't go in at first and we sat in the car talking (no seriously we did) and as the "get to know you" conversation always does we moved on to our families. Now, I try not to talk much about my family besides my sister because we are a loving but dysfunctional redneck bunch and its just hard to explain that my dad is SO redneck that he bought a backhoe during his midlife crisis....
We are in the middle of what I thought was a wonderful conversation when all of a sudden....is he? what the FUCK? at first it was just a few sniffles but the next thing I knew he had his head in my lap and was seriously SOBBING in my lap. OH MY GOD. There I sat, motionless and speechless with a Marine, you know, the few, the proud all that shit, SOBBING LIKE A BABY IN MY LAP.
With no explanation, he sat up, got out of the car and walked into the bar. I followed because well, what the fuck else was I supposed to do? And he spent most of the rest of the night hanging all over me while I tried desperately to figure out what the hell had just happened in the car. Shortly before last call, he seemed to slip back into a blue mood and I tried to approach him, he mumbled something about leaving and home and sorry and LEFT me at the bar. No car, no way to get home, nothing. Fucking charming.
To conclude my shitty night, I text my best friend, to tell him about this epic disaster, hoping for some sympathy. WRONG, the mother fucker immediately turned to the hot cop sitting next to him at work and told him the entire story. I spent the next hour fielding texts about "tissues" and "making men cry", THANKS ASSHOLES!!
I've only really known one other Marine and I can't see him breaking down into tears like that. Later Jo explained to me that his parents were both very ill and he wasn't handling it well. I guess thats understandable but don't you usually tell the girl that sometime before or after soaking her jeans in your tears!?!?!
Jay was a former Marine, the former part wasn't ideal but hey....my area isn't exactly crawling with Marines and as my Gram would say, beggers can't be choosers!! Jo insisted that I meet him and I kept assuring her, I was NOT interested.....until I saw him.
From the moment I walked into the tiny, dirty, slum bar that night our fate was sealed, I was going to have this man. The night found me sitting on his lap getting to know him while our friends decided what and where we were headed next. In the parking lot we decided to ride together to our next hole in the wall and off we went to the "turtle" together.
We didn't go in at first and we sat in the car talking (no seriously we did) and as the "get to know you" conversation always does we moved on to our families. Now, I try not to talk much about my family besides my sister because we are a loving but dysfunctional redneck bunch and its just hard to explain that my dad is SO redneck that he bought a backhoe during his midlife crisis....
We are in the middle of what I thought was a wonderful conversation when all of a sudden....is he? what the FUCK? at first it was just a few sniffles but the next thing I knew he had his head in my lap and was seriously SOBBING in my lap. OH MY GOD. There I sat, motionless and speechless with a Marine, you know, the few, the proud all that shit, SOBBING LIKE A BABY IN MY LAP.
With no explanation, he sat up, got out of the car and walked into the bar. I followed because well, what the fuck else was I supposed to do? And he spent most of the rest of the night hanging all over me while I tried desperately to figure out what the hell had just happened in the car. Shortly before last call, he seemed to slip back into a blue mood and I tried to approach him, he mumbled something about leaving and home and sorry and LEFT me at the bar. No car, no way to get home, nothing. Fucking charming.
To conclude my shitty night, I text my best friend, to tell him about this epic disaster, hoping for some sympathy. WRONG, the mother fucker immediately turned to the hot cop sitting next to him at work and told him the entire story. I spent the next hour fielding texts about "tissues" and "making men cry", THANKS ASSHOLES!!
I've only really known one other Marine and I can't see him breaking down into tears like that. Later Jo explained to me that his parents were both very ill and he wasn't handling it well. I guess thats understandable but don't you usually tell the girl that sometime before or after soaking her jeans in your tears!?!?!
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