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!