“She Had Poles. She Had Worms. She Had a Wife Beater With No Bra.”
“Mary” is a teacher living in Richmond, Virginia. One of my friends in D.C. told her about this blog, and she was kind enough to share her favorite unexpected hookup story. Here it is:
“A huge group of my bestest and hottest friends got together to camp at a state park near Richmond. It would later be referred to by many as Gay Camp I. (I should say that we were all gay/lesbian/bi/alternative lifestyle but we didn’t plan it like that…) Fishing was first on my list of outdoorsy shit to do that day (after spending some quality time in the smokers’ tent), and Siobhan was the girl to do it with. She had poles. She had worms. She had a wife beater with no bra. You see my point. We bonded.
Yadayadayada, the ground is strew with ass-pockets of Maker’s Mark, the b.b. guns have been shelved for the moment (I forgot to mention the b.b. shoot out), and it’s time for bed. It was cold and my tent was too big. Siobhan kept me warm.” Doesn’t this sound idyllic? When Mary sent me this e-mail I was staying with my parents, enduring (just barely) life in the suburbs, and definitely NOT surrounded by ass-pockets of anything. I wanna go camping! Mary says that the upshot was “we dated for a few months and had tons of fun together.”
Now for the clothes: Mary’s memory was hazy, so she took the unusual step of calling Siobhan to get the details. It seems she was wearing “a black bra with white piping (Target)… low rise boyfriend lookin’ jeans probably from Old Navy, some black booty shorts [i.e., boy-cut underwear] from H&M, and a tattered black hoodie with paint and holes all over from helping run the drama program where I teach.” All of America’s favorite bargain brands are represented! You don’t need to spend a lot of money to look hot, especially if the activity you’re doing requires you to strip down to underwear! This may explain why, along with boozin’, another element this story shares with previous ones is that of sportslike activities that take place near water. Now that I think of it, it seems so obvious. Everyone knows that dancing is a metaphor for sex, but what’s up with “fishing” and all this talk about “poles” and “worms” and “bait” and so on? Mary adds that “my bangs were pink, my hair black. This is an important part of every outfit, no?”