One Weekend - KOM as asshole, V1.0

Somehow, I got her to come up from San Diego for a long-distance booty-call.

Yeah, she was the one that had proposed the ultimatum that allowed me to further pursue the girl who I thought was the love of my life.

She was also the freak that allowed us to drag her to Tijuana.

She showed up at my door with her friend. I don't know who the hell this guy was, but she had somehow convinced him to drive up to the Bay Area from San Diego. He said "Hey," then left. She must have concocted some story, indeed.

I tried to clean some things up downstairs, while she "freshened up." Eventually, I went upstairs.

This girl had figured out not only where my stereo was, but how to use it. Unfortunately, the CD and song that she chose to insert was Donna Lewis's "I love You Always Forever". To this day, I don't know where I put my stereo, and I sure as shit didn't know how to use it. So I couldn't turn it off.

Anyhow, true to her word, she wasn't wearing any panties. She let me pull her pants down, let me lay her across my mattress (what, you want a bed? I was 20 years old, living in a two-story safe-house from gang violence! Prioritize, man!)

I must be particularly bad at dining at the 'Y', so to speak, because she got herself up and demanded a proper date before "all that stuff" happens.

{Dinner, maybe a movie... probably not. I don't remember. Let's just say that time elapsed.}

Later, on the floor (mattress, for all of you romantics), I stripped her down. We were making out like rabid seals, when I popped her bra off. Then lo and behold, I spied the longest hair that I've ever seen not attached to a hippy's head - and rooted squarely in her ariola.

I could have flossed with it. All of my teeth. I was going to say something, then I remembered my buddy's tale about the woman that he had sex with that had a "shark fin" clitoris. In my book, that counts as a dick. So I wasn't too, too worried.

I stroked her neck, looking for an Adam's Apple. OK, that didn't really happen. I slightly convulsed and said something like "Wrabbagah!"

"What?"

"Nothing, baby, lay back."

A bit later, I discovered that she was a virgin.

"Why won't this damn thing go in??"

"Ow.."

"Oh.."

The next morning, she decided to be helpful and do the dishes. Helpfully, she put liquid dish-soap into the dishwasher. Helpfully, she turned the machine on.

Helpfully, I instructed her to mop up the 300 cubic yards of foam that squeezed out of the dishwasher. She was non-plussed.

I was furious.

My room mates were really, really high, and thought it was absolutely hysterical. Actually, it was. But I still made her mop up the whole damn kitchen. While I joined them and laughed and laughed.

I'm a bastard, I know. Or at least I was.

But when I last talked to her on the phone, shortly thereafter, she wanted to experiment, as she said, "with butt sex". How's a dog to learn, I ask you??

That's about the time that I thought it would be a good idea to ignore work and visit Tijuana.