Since it has been a while that I last reminded me how much I hate myself , in the vain hope it might entertain others, I shall recount three short tales of various incidences/interactions with females that have always stayed with me to cherish and delight myself with for all my years thus far.
Chapter I - The Pizza Man In The Frat House
The summer before I went off to college I worked delivering pizzas to make some money. I was single and too young to really be hard into the party scene, so I worked a lot of Friday and Saturday nights. Even during the summer we would get busy, and there were enough students that stayed in town that we got our calls.
I wanna say it was approaching midnight one Saturday night. Shit had pretty much settled down and we would be closing soon. All the other drivers had gone home, and I was cleaning dishes. We get a call and a few minutes later the manager on shift came back to tell me a pepperoni pizza would be coming out soon to go to frat house ABC (I have no recollection at all which fraternity it was.)
Sure enough, I was on my way in prompt order. The frat houses were so close I couldn't even finish half of a cigarette before I got there. The stupid fuck hadn't left any outside lights on, but I was adept at scouting out pizza customers and the doors that lead to them.
I knocked on the door and some dude answered. He said the guy that ordered the pizza was just in the next room. Fine. I go in and there are like five guys and three girls hanging out, pretty "partied up" (although it was almost dead silent in the house). The guy that looked the oldest pulled out ten bucks and told me to keep the change.
As I thanked him and was about to say my goodbyes, the same guy interrupts me and indicates that one of the girls had a tip for me too. I found it a little odd, but I entertained the notion. One of the girls started approaching me, a pretty enough girl with dark champagne blonde hair. When she got close enough to me I could see she was clearly drunk, and most likely high out of her mind.
She suddenly closes in on me and embraced me rather tight. I looked at her speechlessly, and she gave me a small kiss. Then a medium kiss. Then she started rubbing on my body, grinding on me and kissing me hard. As the initial shock wore off, I looked side to side and EVERYONE in the room were looking directly at me and what was happening, motionless and deafening silent.
The girl kept giving it to me hard, and her hands were roaming all over me. I kind of snap to, and try to gently grab her arms and create separation. She fought it, but I outweighed her by probably 175 lbs and was at the peak of my weightlifting career, so I just grab her right arm with my left hand, yank her away and stand her in place 3/4 of my arm length away. She starts giggling.
I take a glance around the room, still holding the girl in place. Everyone was still just motionlessly and silently watching. I sized up the guys real quick, none of them were huge but they were all older than me and outnumbered me five to one. I hedged my bet on a diplomatic tactic for a solution. I asked the girl politely to go back and sit down, and she complied. I looked at the "boss" of the group and simply told him I needed to get back to work. Fortunately, none of them hindered me and I left.
That ended up being the last call of the night, so I was left alone washing dishes until 2 am, trying to make sense of what happened at the frat house. Why did the girl kiss me? Why were all of them watching so intently? How far was this supposed to have been taken? Were they hazing her? Did they just keep ordering pepperoni pizzas around town until they got a cooperative lab rat?
After I got home and got into bed, I spent a long time crying. I had just had the most intense and involved action with a pretty girl that I had in my life, but it was all engineered and my role in it meaningless. Even worse, there was some poor fucked up girl being exploited by dirtbag asshole frat boys, and instead of calling the cops on them, I was crying in my parents basement.
Chapter II - The Girl That Cried Rape
I was in my third semester of college and in a drawing class. We were paired up by the professor to critique the drawings of a still life we had worked on during the week, focusing on two or three techniques we were instructed upon.
I was paired with a cute "art major" girl. Our critiques and discourse were pleasant enough that day. As chance would have it, she was running a bit late for the next session and the only open stool/easel was next to me. We didn't have a lot of time to chat, but little there had been was upbeat enough. Having nothing to do after class, I offered to walk her to her next class, and she accepted.
Over the next month or so, we slowly became more friendly. Just talking and trying to be fun. I had not pressed towards intimacy at all, even though I was starting to become attracted to her. My hopes were that those types of gestures and feelings might come about a little more organically.
The day then soon came that I decided to ask her out. Some friends (boys and girls) and I were gonna go "cosmic bowling" (black lights, bright stuff, disco lights). I asked if she would like to go, and she told me yes. I told her I would pick her up right outside the front door of her dorm at some time Saturday evening. It was great, I had asked a girl out and she said YES! Maybe I could actually do this dating thing after all.
I was pretty excited and got there ten minutes early. The clock tolled. She didn't show. Oh, of course I then realized that it takes girls a little longer to get ready, so she is surely fashionably late. Ten minutes, then twenty minutes grind by. I hope I didn't tell her the wrong time?
After 45 minutes even my retarded little 19 year old mind pieced together that shit wasn't right. I went next door to a coed dorm to call her. Her roommate answered and tells me she isn't there. I told her it was ok and hung up, it sunk in nice and deep at that point. I had been stood up. It hurt.
The next two weeks she took pretty advanced and drastic measures to avoid me in drawing class. She would always be the last to arrive and the first to leave. I had wanted to just tell her I wasn't mad and that I would give her space if that was needed. Never got the chance.
One day fate intervened as I happen to park my car, I saw her and her roommate walking home from the bookstore. I stood leaning against my car as they neared, and simply asked her if we could just talk for a minute. She whispers something to her roommate, and then approaches me. She tells me her roommate has class and that we can talk in her room. I was glad that we might have a chance at an amenable accord.
When we arrived at her room, and before I had the chance to tell her any of the things about not being mad or willing to give her more space, she starts getting tremendously histrionic and started ranting about how her last boyfriend was a stalker that used to rape her a lot, and that she was depressed and suicidal and there was nothing I could do to help.
I listened to it all, and before I left I just told her I was sorry yet she could still call me if she needed any help. She didn't say anything, so I left. I was mindfucked.
The next day I skipped drawing class and called her room, hoping to get her roommate to ask if she thought the girl was in trouble. The roommate had the decency to tell me that, despite anything the girl had said, she had just trying to get me to go away and that she had been fucking this other guy for a few weeks.
Oddly enough, I saw her and her beau walking hand in hand and full of smiles a few days later. I stopped hanging out in that corner of the campus all together.
Chapter III - Laughter Is The Hardest Pill To Swallow
For a while, I had worked with a girl I knew from high school. She was nice enough, kinda pretty, and even laughed at some of my jokes. She had a boyfriend that she sort did the "on again/off again" thing, but they were off for good at one point because the dude like moved away.
A new employee came in and liked to have little "parties" after work. She and I ended up being there at a lot of them and kind of "buddied up" at the parties. We weren't being flirty or anything, just friendly.
One night at work we had gone outside to smoke, and she started kind of talking about how long it had been since she had a boyfriend and that she was feeling lonely. I then told her that I would really like to take her to dinner some time if she would like it.
She starts LAUGHING. She flicks her cigarette off and walks inside saying something along the lines of, "Not with *you*." on her way past. The only thing I remember after that is that I finished my first cigarette and then smoked a second.