“I Like Finding People Who Speak Japanese, and Making Out With Them”
Today, something slightly different: An intellectual romance about two people brought together by their passion for the sensual joys of their favorite subject. A smutty intellectual romance. This is what intellectuals should be like, but all too often, they’re not; all too often, their only extracurricular activities are thinking up insults about Sarah Palin and sending sarcastic Facebook messages to each other. I KNOW YOU HEARD THAT, REPRESSED INTELLECTUALS.
“Rei” is a student at a well-known university in the southern United States. It’s the “Harvard of the south,” but the south has many Harvards, so you still don’t know which. She describes herself as a cute, short, nerdy girl with “birth-control derived boobs.” Thus showered with gifts from God and pharmaceuticals, she nevertheless does not get to have a lot of sex “because I have this crazy-bad off-and-on relationship with someone whom I dated in high school, and he has been in Japan for the past year.” Also, “I am quite in love with Japanese and biology and sexuality, and that love essentially amounts to an inordinate passion for subjects that I see as academic,” so she spends a lot of time studying.
Also, she hadn’t brought any shoes except for Chucks, so she borrowed a pair of (very small) green flip-flops from her friend. “I think I probably just wore big giant white cotton panties because I absolutely hate wearing underwear and wearing too-big stuff is the closest I can get to not wearing underwear without actually not wearing underwear (which, sure, I do fairly often, but not really when I’m wearing dresses).” Fascinating! I’ve never heard the case for large underwear made in quite this way, or in any other way. Rei has a shoulder tattoo that says “幸せになる,” which means “to become happy” in Japanese; it was mostly covered by her clothes at this point in the evening.
Although Rei was “looking to score that night,” she thought success was unlikely. Not only did she not know many of these people, but it turns out the school she was visiting considered itself involved in a rivalry with her school, which occasioned some hostile comments. Meanwhile people at Rei’s school aren’t even aware that this rivalry exists, because “we are all so fixated on hating the hell out of UNC.” What’s up with these feuds between abstract entities? The other day my friend told me someone had insulted her because the Wisconsin town he comes from is the “enemy” of her Wisconsin town. It’s always the less cool and status-y member of the rivalry that actually cares about it, so if you think your town or team or whatever has an enemy, you should probably just drop it.
Rei was lucky enough to meet a young man who did not take part in this tragic prejudice against her school. Her friend introduced her to “Valmont” because he speaks Japanese, and as she puts it, “when I am drunk, I want to speak Japanese. Not English. I really, really like Japanese, and speaking it, and finding people who speak Japanese, and finding people who like Japan, and then making out with them.” She felt an immediate connection with Valmont (in addition to being a fine scholar, he “is a complete man-whore who likes to push sexual boundaries,” although this is a conclusion she drew later), but he left for some other party and didn’t return for a few hours.
When he got back Rei remembers “a very heated, intense conversation taking place as we leaned up against a wall and got close to each other so we could hear over the yelling and the music–all in Japanese. The boy had me slayed–he was talking about how good I was, how impressed he was, etc. We were both really excited to be speaking Japanese, and I was exciting to see how his long-sleeved shirt fit his torso.” They got dragged into a game of beer pong (“he won and I may or may not have been belligerent and boisterous”), and then “we started leaning up against each other and making out in the kitchen. Eventually we just moved it out into the hallway and a couch, and then inside a darkened study room, where we took off each other’s clothes and rolled around on the floor.”
That’s the end of the story, except for some AIM chats they had later about their sexual fantasies “and the times we’ve been interrupted by policemen while having sex in cars.” Rei is now studying abroad and won’t see this amazing man again. She does have a theory about the incident, though. She remembers Valmont pulling down the back of her dress so that he could see her tattoo better, and she says it’s intriguing to people because it is “incongruous” with her usually reserved personality. She concludes that “a nerdy girl with a tattoo might have her ‘holy grail’ already inked on her skin.” I don’t have a picture of hers, so here’s an unrelated one you might enjoy.