Bruce tried to get the trip switched to a singles cruise…it was a dream vacation for A COUPLE, and had originally been intended for Bruce and his then wife. 4 days cruising to the Bahamas and 4 days in Disney world in a Honeymoon suite at a Disney resort hotel. But a few weeks before their departure , the two split, since his wife left him for a personal trainer named Apollo! (AS a side note, twice now Bruce has been left by his wives for their personal trainer/male stripper- lovers…what the hell?)
I was invited on the trip as a last minute replacement. I had not been on a cruise at the time, and being self employed I was the most flexible of Bruce's friends. So I agreed to go….The travel agent had said with such short notice we might be able to be switched to a singles cruise for a $ 100 fee….
That did not happen. WE, two, straight, twenty something men, were committed to a Couples cruise on the "Big Red Boat" of Disney Travel. It soon became a Mickey Mouse affair! (No not that kind of affair).
WE flew to Orlando as set on our itinerary, rented a car, and headed to the port…Canaveral I think.
First thing you do when you check into a cruise is to meet the staff at check in tables and see a diagram of the ship, be assigned a room, and handed a ton of rules and paperwork, as well as a rum punch. WE drank lots of rum punch that trip, but never so much as to actually present ourselves as a couple….
WE had to get to our room and find our bags there, then rush off to the "life Boat drill". Our room number was Cabin 69. A moderate priced room with two twin beds, that could be pushed romantically together, and "bridged" if we just let the staff know we wanted to be romantically pushed together!
Initially we thought little of the Cabin Number. That would soon change. WE barely got the cabin settled than it was time for the lifeboat drills. We got our lifejackets from under our "push together beds" . They were those basic, adult sized orange contraptions, though the way they were faded, they sure looked PINK to this cowboy. To make it worse, we were in a hurry and the two sets of straps were entangled in a hopelessly kinky mess. (Pun intended)
WE finally got them "separated" ………..Like Bruce, and put them on. By now the Free rum punch in my hand was Number 5 or 6...(hey its free). Its PINK, but its free.
We take some of the nightly scheduled activities sheets with us , as we seek out our Lifeboat. Two macho single guys, with Shorts, sandals, T shirts, Pink Life Jackets, and Pink FREE Rum punches…on a couples cruise.
Turns out we were the first to the life boat report station, so we naturally re-filled our pink rum punches. And waited. Somehow, since we were so buzzed, we failed to notice the other 73 Passengers that had formed up behind us, awaiting our crew member that was to give us instructions on how to get on the life boat in a real emergency.
When he arrived, he immediately announced that we were to separate into two groups: Husbands/Boyfriends on the Left, Wives and Girlfriends on the right.
Much like the red sea, (Though since the sun was setting behind the lifeboat, it too looked Pink), the crowd parted as instructed…….leaving Bruce and I standing in our same spot, side by side…..
I had my drink in one hand, he had his drink in one hand. I had the social events list in the other (where I had come across great news!, There was a singles mixer at 9 PM in a side bar/lounge)……. He looked toward the Husband/Boyfriends, I looked toward the Wife/Girlfriends. Then I looked the opposite way toward my own gender, he toward the females…
We repeated this several times, not sure what to do, and then the laughter started. Quietly at first, then louder still…..people were pointing at us! As Bruce windmilled back and forth, maintaining his drunken gender preference confusion, I realized, that prominently stenciled on the back of each of the collars of our PINK Life vests, was our cabin number.
69
The crew member suggested we both go to the men's side of the division and that the segregation was to allow women to board the life boat first. One of the guys cracked that if we wanted to, one or both of us could move to the women's group….
Now, 73 passengers out of 1100 knew that two men, in Cabin 69, were on a couples cruise together…..The Big Red boat had not even left the dock!
AS soon as the drill was over, we took off the pink-like Mae Wests (Hey that's what the damn things are called). Naturally we had to get fresh rum punches, and get back to our room for a formal seating at dinner. Luckily we chose the earlier seating , because we wanted to make it to the singles mixer. All we needed was for there to be two or more single women on board…..just two.
The ship leaves the dock, as we head to dinner. WE find a large table assigned to us, that holds 16 people. Bruce, Me, 14 others…..they slowly get seated. Bruce orders a martini. AS if we are not drunk enough. I stick to the rum punch, worried I might throw up on the only single woman on board in a few hours, and really blow it, so to speak. We are sat with 7 couples. 2 couples are from spain. The girls are HOT. I mean Hot. Only one of the 4 Spaniards can speak English. The hottest girl of course. Later she explains that normally her boyfriend would be jealous at how much she and Bruce and I talk, but that he is not worried since we are no doubt GAY!
The other 5 couples, all from New York, and all New York cops, are part of a huge wedding party that decided to combine the honeymoon and a group trip. Two of the guys are brothers. Initially, their wives and girl friends do all the talking to us. The men talk among themselves. And attempt to talk to the two Spanish males, who don't speak English!
Our main waiter, and his table assistant present themselves. Our waiter says his name is Orkin, like the "bug killing guy", and that he is from Greece. He will wait on us for the entire trip, we are told, and so he must record our cabin numbers for the end of the trip, when we are to tip him and his table assistant heavily. He guarantees us the best service any of us ever experienced.
He works his way around the table starting with the couple near Bruce, and heads the other way. WE are last. I can see it coming, but not in the way it comes off…..
Finally he gets to me, looks at Bruce, looks at me…..smiles a half smile and says: "What is your Cabin Number sir? I quietly look right at him and say: "Cabin 69".
He replies: "Cabin 69?!?!?" SO LOUD THE WHOLE dining room with 500 guests and all the staff hear it!
Immediately, from all corners of the room, from every waiter and Table Helper (nearly 100 guys), they YELL in UNISON: " WE DON"T HAVE a Cabin 69!"
There is a roar of laughter, and clapping and celebrating . Especially ORKIN and his table helper. These dudes are nearly Orgasmic over their good fortune. I mean they are patting us on the back, and high fiving each other and every thing.
Turns out, that each cruise, the staff in the dining room pool together $500 and whoever ends up with the couple from Cabin 69 at their table, wins the POT! Upon learning this I make sure to mention to Orkin, that Bruce and I may pass on tipping him for his one of a kind service.
NOW. 550 Of the 1100 Passengers know that two men are on a couples cruise and staying in Cabin 69. Thanks Orkin. I have still not forgiven you.
Normally when people check in, we later learn, the kind of couple that usually gets placed in Cabin 69 is the most naïve newlyweds. But Bruce and I, together, were too good to pass up. We were tickled Pink. NOT!
Mercifully the dinner is over, and we leave feeling as if we have sufficiently convinced the 5 NYC cops we are NOT gay. Who knows, who cares. I need another rum punch, and to find this damn lounge where the singles mixer is happening.
I don't care if it's a bunch of single 70 year old Lesbians with Penis envy. I am ready to prove my manhood now!
We get to the little Piano Bar where the mixer has already started. We are the last guys there. Good News: WE are the ONLY GUYS there except for one bartender serving, believe it or not 20 single women. More Good news: While none of them appear to be Lesbian, and none of them have overt penis envy, some definitely have young guy penis lust!
There is bad news too however.
Part of my wish does come true. All but two of the 20 women are over 70. The two younger ones are 65.….and you guessed it 69!
Thursday, September 11, 2008
I was Violated!
A few years back, I was dating a scientist, who worked in a lab and loved; simply loved animals... She was 26, and extremely fun intelectually and sexually...Her household was filled with pets. The usual stuff, but on a scale that dwarfed Noah's ark practically.
She had 5 dogs (all overfed by the way), 3 cats, a gerbill, a Hamster habitat(I lost count on how many), A Parrot, some doves, an Albino snake of some sort( huge one, like 6' or more), three salt water aquariums the largest of which was 400 gallons. She also had frogs, a lizard, and a collection of crabs, and not just the tree crabs popular with little kids.
She had all these animals INSIDE a 2 Bedroom, 1 Bath, wood frame house. The house was clean, and FILLED with plants, and lots of lighting that made every room exotic... Plus this animal print motif on nearly every piece of furniture...The Dogs, 3 which were labs and the other two golden retrievers...roamed in and out at will...through a doggie door set-up.
After we had been lovers for a while, I realized that, without meaning to, we had almost always had sex at her place....eventually in EVERY room, and in all kinds of ways. It was very much like, well, like animals in a jungle...Since the plants were so prevalent, you often could not see across a room....
So one night, on a more "boring" day, we were deep into it, on her bed (hey sometimes a bed is very good, especially with a footboard for added leverage....)
I was concentrating on maintaining all the contact points(if you don't know what that means people, i am not telling, because I can't give away my best sex secrets).......
And we were close.....very close...to that explosion point we all seek (okay some of you may actually NOT seek what you have not experienced...yet.)
I was on top, since that is what the whole using the footboard for leverage thing does for the man....
and concentrating, AGAIN on the max contact points and sensing our first climax,when all of a sudden...
I felt it...it was cold. Wet, and hairy, but slithered like a snake...and it was nosing its way to that special spot, some of us call a "taint'.... It was shocking, mind rocking, and de-frocking(since what little sheets that were still on us, flew off!).
In a Millisecond, I jumped up, completely upright! I mean, me, and my little guy(okay not so little guy, but its all relative einstein), were standing up like a reverse squat thrust/Saturn Rocket at lift off...
In less than 2/10 of a second the following happened as I stood up : I had an intense, and guilt filled orgasm; the girl, who also realized some cross between a snake and a rat, was now between her legs instead of mine and kicked at it, missed, and caught my highly vulnerable parts SQUARE ON! (we are talking wheelhouse here baseball fans), She screamed, I screamed, and threw my head back, having no clue one could go from intense pleasure, to intense pain in 2/10 ths of a second....
But that was not all: As I yelled in pain, I threw my head pack, trying to reflex from the misdirected kick, and of course, made perfect contact with the ceiling fan, running on high behind me!
At the end of the 2/10 ths of a second interval, as I blacked out from the head trauma....I glimpsed the rat/snake mutant animal....which only had three legs...It was her pet ferret, which I knew nothing of til just then....
When I came to, about 5 minutes later...she had no ice on my head, no ice between my legs, and no apologies ready, at all.... She was busy calming her ferret!
The ferret, she explained was nocturnal, and had lost its leg BECAUSE she kept it caged at night....so she made it a regular practice to let it loose in her bedroom, (where it usually played in her closet all night while she slept) so it would be safe!
She was MAD at me! I actually walked into the back yard, hosed myself off to awaken, and gathered my clothes to go home...
Lesson: Stay away from Girls with Three legged ferrets!
She had 5 dogs (all overfed by the way), 3 cats, a gerbill, a Hamster habitat(I lost count on how many), A Parrot, some doves, an Albino snake of some sort( huge one, like 6' or more), three salt water aquariums the largest of which was 400 gallons. She also had frogs, a lizard, and a collection of crabs, and not just the tree crabs popular with little kids.
She had all these animals INSIDE a 2 Bedroom, 1 Bath, wood frame house. The house was clean, and FILLED with plants, and lots of lighting that made every room exotic... Plus this animal print motif on nearly every piece of furniture...The Dogs, 3 which were labs and the other two golden retrievers...roamed in and out at will...through a doggie door set-up.
After we had been lovers for a while, I realized that, without meaning to, we had almost always had sex at her place....eventually in EVERY room, and in all kinds of ways. It was very much like, well, like animals in a jungle...Since the plants were so prevalent, you often could not see across a room....
So one night, on a more "boring" day, we were deep into it, on her bed (hey sometimes a bed is very good, especially with a footboard for added leverage....)
I was concentrating on maintaining all the contact points(if you don't know what that means people, i am not telling, because I can't give away my best sex secrets).......
And we were close.....very close...to that explosion point we all seek (okay some of you may actually NOT seek what you have not experienced...yet.)
I was on top, since that is what the whole using the footboard for leverage thing does for the man....
and concentrating, AGAIN on the max contact points and sensing our first climax,when all of a sudden...
I felt it...it was cold. Wet, and hairy, but slithered like a snake...and it was nosing its way to that special spot, some of us call a "taint'.... It was shocking, mind rocking, and de-frocking(since what little sheets that were still on us, flew off!).
In a Millisecond, I jumped up, completely upright! I mean, me, and my little guy(okay not so little guy, but its all relative einstein), were standing up like a reverse squat thrust/Saturn Rocket at lift off...
In less than 2/10 of a second the following happened as I stood up : I had an intense, and guilt filled orgasm; the girl, who also realized some cross between a snake and a rat, was now between her legs instead of mine and kicked at it, missed, and caught my highly vulnerable parts SQUARE ON! (we are talking wheelhouse here baseball fans), She screamed, I screamed, and threw my head back, having no clue one could go from intense pleasure, to intense pain in 2/10 ths of a second....
But that was not all: As I yelled in pain, I threw my head pack, trying to reflex from the misdirected kick, and of course, made perfect contact with the ceiling fan, running on high behind me!
At the end of the 2/10 ths of a second interval, as I blacked out from the head trauma....I glimpsed the rat/snake mutant animal....which only had three legs...It was her pet ferret, which I knew nothing of til just then....
When I came to, about 5 minutes later...she had no ice on my head, no ice between my legs, and no apologies ready, at all.... She was busy calming her ferret!
The ferret, she explained was nocturnal, and had lost its leg BECAUSE she kept it caged at night....so she made it a regular practice to let it loose in her bedroom, (where it usually played in her closet all night while she slept) so it would be safe!
She was MAD at me! I actually walked into the back yard, hosed myself off to awaken, and gathered my clothes to go home...
Lesson: Stay away from Girls with Three legged ferrets!
My first time lover was a Knock out!
The first time I ever had sex, I knocked myself out....
It still ranks near the very top of my most embarassing moments. And I have had a few, such as when I fell off a stage speaking before 5000 people....or when I got my little brothers head caught in the wrought iron fence at the botanical gardens...
This is not a story of sexual conquest, or wild, uninhibited passion. It’s more like how an Aggie not only fumbles through his first time, but how bad a first time can be....
The fact is, I was out of college already. (Hey don’t hate, I tried to lose it sooner, believe me). AS Kipling would say, "But thats another story."
My first job out of A&M, I worked in Austin Texas for the summer. It was a week before my 22nd birthday, and I met friends out at a local club. They were having a mini-marathon benefitting Muscular Dystrophy. One cute girl, also 21, had raised money but had no dance partner (Later I learned she had broke up with her boyfriend of 2 years, Thus the Angry sex.....) , asked me if I would dance with her in the contest. I love to dance, so what the hell!
WE did just that. We won the contest and had a great time. My friends had long since left. She invited me to her place for DONUTS and COFFEE. I mean I really thought we were going to have Donuts and Coffee. Now I realize that’s some sort of Texas Longhorn code for meaningless sex, and unconcious embarrassment.
As we laid in bed in the afterglow....(yes after the first time, which sucked, and which sucked because of my inexperience; I am man enoiugh to admit), she tells me about her recent break up....
Then she tells me, as she slips into a 100 dance/20 tequila shot coma....that her dad and BROTHERS (Plural), are on their way from Victoria in a U-Haul, to arrive early the next morning to move her back home!
My Aggie brain races to a hundred scary questions of sheer panic at once: How many brothers? (who cares, one brother and a Dad is sufficiently scary), How far is Victoria? How early in the Morning are we talking? (it was already almost 5 a.m.), Will they stop along the way?, what would I say if they show up before I leave? Will they mistake me for the recent EX? Will they take out their anger on me, as a Proxy for the recent Ex?
So. I devise a lame plan. An Exit Plan as they call it in the best MBA schools. I am going to slip, stealthily from under her head(My now asleep left arm), and stealthily still from her bedside, boots in hand and find the front door. Yes I know it was chickenshit, but what do you want? You want me to stick around for Donuts and Coffee with the Dad and Brothers?
I get to the apartment door, socks on, jeans on, but boots and shirt under my arm. The arm that will be numb and asleep for at least 5 more hours since her head (the one on her shoulders) weighed more than the average 8.4 pounds! (Did I mention I had to work at 8 a.m.? )
The door is at a little cove area, which is tiled rather than carpeted. Three feet from the door is a short sheet rocked wall, just opposite. I rotate the deadbolt, and un-do the button lock. Silently I unlatch the chain. I forget to look out the peep hole to see if her 12 brothers await me on the other side. (Hey, I was still drunk, and it was my first time). I pull on the door.
It does not budge. I pull again.
Nothing!
I assume maybe I did the dead bolt wrong, so I reverse its rotation. I pull again.
Same result.
My life, (with bad first sex recently behind me) flashes before my hazy eyes. I am trapped and will no doubt be ended quickly by what I now envision as the vengeful 12 Horsemen of the Apocolypse (yes I lost count).
I try the door again. Nothing. I got NOTHING.
I re-work the latches and lock, brace my left foot on the trim/door jamb, still trying to remain stealthy, and firmly but steadily pull harder and harder.
Apparently, the door was simply hung up on weather stripping, because when I am asserting 200 pounds of pressure with my one good arm and legs(I used to work out a lot), it flies open!
My socked foot on the floor slips forward, my body flies backward, but not as fast as the door edge comes toward me.
I will never know if the edge of the door knocked me out, or if my head cratering the sheetrock wall behind did the trick. Probably the one -two punch combo.
I was out for some period of time. At least 5 minutes. Maybe a lot more.
As I came to, Sprawled out in the entryway, my "Date" for the night, and her ROOMMATE (No I had not idea there was even another bedroom), stood nearby. My Date silently mouthed the words "asshole".
I gathered my things, leaving most of my dignity, and wandered the parking lot for an hour trying to find my truck. Worried the whole time I would see a U-Haul Pulling in....
My last thought, as I showered for work, with a linear bruise aside my nose and between my eyes, as well as a Horrible headache and pending hangover was: God you’re a stud!
It still ranks near the very top of my most embarassing moments. And I have had a few, such as when I fell off a stage speaking before 5000 people....or when I got my little brothers head caught in the wrought iron fence at the botanical gardens...
This is not a story of sexual conquest, or wild, uninhibited passion. It’s more like how an Aggie not only fumbles through his first time, but how bad a first time can be....
The fact is, I was out of college already. (Hey don’t hate, I tried to lose it sooner, believe me). AS Kipling would say, "But thats another story."
My first job out of A&M, I worked in Austin Texas for the summer. It was a week before my 22nd birthday, and I met friends out at a local club. They were having a mini-marathon benefitting Muscular Dystrophy. One cute girl, also 21, had raised money but had no dance partner (Later I learned she had broke up with her boyfriend of 2 years, Thus the Angry sex.....) , asked me if I would dance with her in the contest. I love to dance, so what the hell!
WE did just that. We won the contest and had a great time. My friends had long since left. She invited me to her place for DONUTS and COFFEE. I mean I really thought we were going to have Donuts and Coffee. Now I realize that’s some sort of Texas Longhorn code for meaningless sex, and unconcious embarrassment.
As we laid in bed in the afterglow....(yes after the first time, which sucked, and which sucked because of my inexperience; I am man enoiugh to admit), she tells me about her recent break up....
Then she tells me, as she slips into a 100 dance/20 tequila shot coma....that her dad and BROTHERS (Plural), are on their way from Victoria in a U-Haul, to arrive early the next morning to move her back home!
My Aggie brain races to a hundred scary questions of sheer panic at once: How many brothers? (who cares, one brother and a Dad is sufficiently scary), How far is Victoria? How early in the Morning are we talking? (it was already almost 5 a.m.), Will they stop along the way?, what would I say if they show up before I leave? Will they mistake me for the recent EX? Will they take out their anger on me, as a Proxy for the recent Ex?
So. I devise a lame plan. An Exit Plan as they call it in the best MBA schools. I am going to slip, stealthily from under her head(My now asleep left arm), and stealthily still from her bedside, boots in hand and find the front door. Yes I know it was chickenshit, but what do you want? You want me to stick around for Donuts and Coffee with the Dad and Brothers?
I get to the apartment door, socks on, jeans on, but boots and shirt under my arm. The arm that will be numb and asleep for at least 5 more hours since her head (the one on her shoulders) weighed more than the average 8.4 pounds! (Did I mention I had to work at 8 a.m.? )
The door is at a little cove area, which is tiled rather than carpeted. Three feet from the door is a short sheet rocked wall, just opposite. I rotate the deadbolt, and un-do the button lock. Silently I unlatch the chain. I forget to look out the peep hole to see if her 12 brothers await me on the other side. (Hey, I was still drunk, and it was my first time). I pull on the door.
It does not budge. I pull again.
Nothing!
I assume maybe I did the dead bolt wrong, so I reverse its rotation. I pull again.
Same result.
My life, (with bad first sex recently behind me) flashes before my hazy eyes. I am trapped and will no doubt be ended quickly by what I now envision as the vengeful 12 Horsemen of the Apocolypse (yes I lost count).
I try the door again. Nothing. I got NOTHING.
I re-work the latches and lock, brace my left foot on the trim/door jamb, still trying to remain stealthy, and firmly but steadily pull harder and harder.
Apparently, the door was simply hung up on weather stripping, because when I am asserting 200 pounds of pressure with my one good arm and legs(I used to work out a lot), it flies open!
My socked foot on the floor slips forward, my body flies backward, but not as fast as the door edge comes toward me.
I will never know if the edge of the door knocked me out, or if my head cratering the sheetrock wall behind did the trick. Probably the one -two punch combo.
I was out for some period of time. At least 5 minutes. Maybe a lot more.
As I came to, Sprawled out in the entryway, my "Date" for the night, and her ROOMMATE (No I had not idea there was even another bedroom), stood nearby. My Date silently mouthed the words "asshole".
I gathered my things, leaving most of my dignity, and wandered the parking lot for an hour trying to find my truck. Worried the whole time I would see a U-Haul Pulling in....
My last thought, as I showered for work, with a linear bruise aside my nose and between my eyes, as well as a Horrible headache and pending hangover was: God you’re a stud!
My second Hot Date, and wet one!
I had only been seeing the girl for a short while, I was about 26 at the time, and decided to take her to one of my favorite Italian Restaraunts. You know the kind: small seats less than 100, close tables, a combo plays on weekends, the owner knows you by name, candle on the table, menu limited but always impressive.
We sat at the table, and I ordered for her, including a good mateus wine. The place was not too dressy, but nice enough. I recall I had on a long sleeve white button down..
Things were going well, and the wine was flowing, as was the conversation...we had finished out salads and main course, and I reached across the table to pour my date another glass of vino. She was stunning. I lingered too long looking at her eyes and hair. Suddenly I realize, there is a problem.
My Sleeve has caught fire. Apparently the starch or dry cleaning product can be quite flammable. I think quickly and start by beating my sleeve with the cloth napkin. It too, is starched and catches fire. I jump up and throw down the napkin, onto...you guessed it, the starched tablecloth... In no time the candle itself has left its container and the melted wax is wicked by the tablecloth!
The owner comes out with a fire extinguisher...which was good thinking, but as he approaches....the ceiling sprinklers turn on, dousing the whole restaraunt...
It was the perfect HOT date...memorable, spontaneous, exciting, AND it got my Date very wet!
Fire has been too much a part of my love life....
The owner was very gracious and thanked me, because now he would have money to remodel!
We sat at the table, and I ordered for her, including a good mateus wine. The place was not too dressy, but nice enough. I recall I had on a long sleeve white button down..
Things were going well, and the wine was flowing, as was the conversation...we had finished out salads and main course, and I reached across the table to pour my date another glass of vino. She was stunning. I lingered too long looking at her eyes and hair. Suddenly I realize, there is a problem.
My Sleeve has caught fire. Apparently the starch or dry cleaning product can be quite flammable. I think quickly and start by beating my sleeve with the cloth napkin. It too, is starched and catches fire. I jump up and throw down the napkin, onto...you guessed it, the starched tablecloth... In no time the candle itself has left its container and the melted wax is wicked by the tablecloth!
The owner comes out with a fire extinguisher...which was good thinking, but as he approaches....the ceiling sprinklers turn on, dousing the whole restaraunt...
It was the perfect HOT date...memorable, spontaneous, exciting, AND it got my Date very wet!
Fire has been too much a part of my love life....
The owner was very gracious and thanked me, because now he would have money to remodel!
My first Hot date!
Melanie and I were 17 and had just come from the High school Christmas dance. She was truly beautiful and I liked her a lot.We had with us, another couple of young people named Archie and Veronica in the back seat of a 2 week old cadillac.
The Cadillac belonged to Melanie's parents, and they had just bought it. Mel's dad, thinking me to be the good, accomplished, honest, and reliable type, proposed that I drive the two girls who were best friends to the dance in the nice car, instead of the 15 year old beater I shared with my sisters. Mel's Dad was a county Sheriff's deputy and sufficiently intimidating. They actually trusted me with their new car, and their virginal daughter.
The hot part of the date began at nearly midnight, when Archie and I suggested we go out ot Benbrook lake and "discuss" politics with the girls, near the water's edge. The political conversation was so heated, that the windows began to steam up. It was December after all....the more we got into the oppposing positions, the harder it was to see outside the car.
At one point Archie stops in the middle of making a Point, to ask me if I smell smoke. I say , maybe but it must be someone building a camp fire nearby. We both turn our attention back to the girls. Nevertheless, he insists their is a forest fire or something nearby...so I agree to break off my Political talent for speaking in tongues, and open the driver side door to look out.
At first, I see nothing, but I feel that I am no longer adequately dressed to investigate thoroughly, and besides, the nature of our intimate discussion is so much more attaractive. I close the car door..
Almost right away, Archie and Veronica both say..."There's a fire". because the seem to have sensed a glow nearby. I re-open th car door, and see nothing. I step out, and look around, but still see nothing at first. As I start to get back in the caddy, I look under the car at this, alien spaceship-like glow,, only to discover the bottom of the car is ON FIRE! Apparently the very dry, very high grass was heated by the catalytic converter under the car and had set it, and the grease points aflame. This is not good....I am in my dates' parents new car, its on fire, she is half way disrobed(because of the building heat you see), and her father is trained in weaponry, as well as authorized to use a lot of excessive force...
Archie comes up with a bright idea. Have the girls and Archie get out of the car, and stand back. Start the car, and put it in gear, and drive it swiftly into the shallow part of the lake, to douse the flames under the car, and minimize the damage. It sounds feasible, in the 2.5 seconds I analyze the concept, so I do it.
I drive the car forward, with the other three looking on....the front wheels no sooner enter the surf of the lake, then they bury themselves to the axle in the muck...so while the front end's underside is no longer aflame, the back end is burning hotter than ever! I WADE, in 29 degree temp, and polar bear club water, back to shore in a tux. I walk up the rocky beach to join the others. We watch in shock as the car, slowly continues to burn, paint peels, the interior catches through the floorboards, the Upholstery catches, eventually, in about 15 minutes ALL the things on the car that can burn, DO. Whats left is a hulk of metal, even the windows bust out some... Yes the damn thing is totaled.
We walk up to the highway where mel calls her dad, and we wait for him. He shows up in his old Pick-up and tells the girls to get in, while hestares at me and Archie. Its a rough scene..
Then he leaves our butts there on the side of the highway, and takes our dates home...
I had to work extra to pay off the deductible, and paid for the tow truck the next morn...I never got to see mel again.
Some Hot dates suck.I count at least 4 hot dates where fire was involved, and not in a good way...but that's another story.
The Cadillac belonged to Melanie's parents, and they had just bought it. Mel's dad, thinking me to be the good, accomplished, honest, and reliable type, proposed that I drive the two girls who were best friends to the dance in the nice car, instead of the 15 year old beater I shared with my sisters. Mel's Dad was a county Sheriff's deputy and sufficiently intimidating. They actually trusted me with their new car, and their virginal daughter.
The hot part of the date began at nearly midnight, when Archie and I suggested we go out ot Benbrook lake and "discuss" politics with the girls, near the water's edge. The political conversation was so heated, that the windows began to steam up. It was December after all....the more we got into the oppposing positions, the harder it was to see outside the car.
At one point Archie stops in the middle of making a Point, to ask me if I smell smoke. I say , maybe but it must be someone building a camp fire nearby. We both turn our attention back to the girls. Nevertheless, he insists their is a forest fire or something nearby...so I agree to break off my Political talent for speaking in tongues, and open the driver side door to look out.
At first, I see nothing, but I feel that I am no longer adequately dressed to investigate thoroughly, and besides, the nature of our intimate discussion is so much more attaractive. I close the car door..
Almost right away, Archie and Veronica both say..."There's a fire". because the seem to have sensed a glow nearby. I re-open th car door, and see nothing. I step out, and look around, but still see nothing at first. As I start to get back in the caddy, I look under the car at this, alien spaceship-like glow,, only to discover the bottom of the car is ON FIRE! Apparently the very dry, very high grass was heated by the catalytic converter under the car and had set it, and the grease points aflame. This is not good....I am in my dates' parents new car, its on fire, she is half way disrobed(because of the building heat you see), and her father is trained in weaponry, as well as authorized to use a lot of excessive force...
Archie comes up with a bright idea. Have the girls and Archie get out of the car, and stand back. Start the car, and put it in gear, and drive it swiftly into the shallow part of the lake, to douse the flames under the car, and minimize the damage. It sounds feasible, in the 2.5 seconds I analyze the concept, so I do it.
I drive the car forward, with the other three looking on....the front wheels no sooner enter the surf of the lake, then they bury themselves to the axle in the muck...so while the front end's underside is no longer aflame, the back end is burning hotter than ever! I WADE, in 29 degree temp, and polar bear club water, back to shore in a tux. I walk up the rocky beach to join the others. We watch in shock as the car, slowly continues to burn, paint peels, the interior catches through the floorboards, the Upholstery catches, eventually, in about 15 minutes ALL the things on the car that can burn, DO. Whats left is a hulk of metal, even the windows bust out some... Yes the damn thing is totaled.
We walk up to the highway where mel calls her dad, and we wait for him. He shows up in his old Pick-up and tells the girls to get in, while hestares at me and Archie. Its a rough scene..
Then he leaves our butts there on the side of the highway, and takes our dates home...
I had to work extra to pay off the deductible, and paid for the tow truck the next morn...I never got to see mel again.
Some Hot dates suck.I count at least 4 hot dates where fire was involved, and not in a good way...but that's another story.
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