“I Don’t Know How a Sober Person Could Embarrass Herself So Much”
The entries I write usually focus on the first time a couple hooks up. That’s based on a common assumption: The first time is the hardest to set up, requiring the most seduction, placing the highest demands on your charm and attractiveness. But that’s not always the case. Anyone can just blunder into a one-night stand. Sometimes the second time is the hardest. Having shared a night of passion, two people have lost their easy rapport, and are burdened by expectations and anxieties. An opportunity that once arose by pure chance must now be painstakingly and effortfully re-created. Each fears scaring the other away by acting clingy, or offending a pal by treating them as a mere booty call. One or more of the parties concerned may develop a paranoid fear that the other person is “ignoring” them, and sometimes they’re right. In fact, I recall that once I… but no, this isn’t the place. This story isn’t about me. It’s about a handsome man, a beautiful woman, and a cat in a dress.
“Magnolia” is a photographer who lives in a large city in Texas. “We like to say, ‘Everything is Bigger in Texas.'” She “know[s] this guy from the tattoo shop where I go, and he is super hot.” It’s the place where she gets tattoos, but also, “I go up to the shop and shoot the shit with all the guys that work there. They are very raunchy and sometimes I just need to hear some dirty talk!”
In fact, she met “Reno” about a year ago at a friend’s going away party; “I was drunk and hit on him all night. Then the next time I showed up at the shop, there he was, he just got hired! I pretended not to remember hitting on him, but he brought it to my attention.” She describes his look as “totally rock n’ roll, sleeved out, gauged ears, the kind of guy I would have taken home to Mom and Dad during my rebellious phase. He just looks like a bad ass! His vibe is super fun, someone that can party hard, and won’t let anyone fuck with him.”
“Long story, short, we hooked up once and it was great, and I thought this could be a regular booty call. We texted each other every now and then, but never could get our schedules to match so there was no booty to be had.” See? Logistics.
“Then, last weekend was my friend’s birthday party at a BYOB all-nude strip club. Classy, I know. Let’s start with what I was wearing… a purple/wine- colored silk spaghetti strap top with a sweetheart neckline. I save it for special occasions, and with the amount of boobies and crotches we were bound to see, I knew love (or lust) might be in the air. I was also wearing my favorite dark denim jeans and black high-heeled mary janes.”
Inside the club, “it was dark, smoky, sleazy, there were neon lights, a two-story stripper pole, strippers hanging off bars and flipping off ledges, it was nuts. I was impressed by the gymnastics of it, and we all thought we might see someone bust her head.” I once saw a stripper kick a bartender in the head with her lucite r platform shoe. He wasn’t upset; he seemed to accept it as a hazard of the trade. “The birthday girl had a lot of $ on her, so she was handing it out to us and dragging us up to strippers to stick it in their thongs… if they had thongs. I was just walking around and turned my head and a girl was hanging in the air from a pole, spread eagle, and I got an awful close up vagina view. I was not prepared for that (I’ve only been to the strip club twice before, and never an all-nude one).” Reno and Magnolia mostly weren’t interested in the strippers, so they chatted amicably. “He did smack my ass twice and I slapped his hand away because I didn’t want the other guys (from the tat shop) to see. They have really explicit conversations, and I didn’t want them to know about our ‘thing.'”
Finally, “it was really late (this club stayed open until 4 a.m.) and the guy was leaving. I wasn’t about to let this chance slip by, because, hey, I was wearing the silk ‘special occasion’ top. So I left too and texted him to come over.”
“He came over and was looking around at my artwork and my apartment because he had never been over before. Now, I will have to preface this with that fact that I had been drinking a lot all night, but I could have SWORN that I wasn’t drunk at this point. But I don’t know how a sober person could embarrass herself so much, so maybe we should tell everyone that I was wasted! He said something about my cat and I mentioned that I like to dress her up. Now my friends know this quirk about me and find it funny, or at least if they judge I don’t care. Then the guy asked to see my cat’s clothes. I got all excited (again…why???) and pulled out ALL of the outfits I had ever gotten her. It went like this: ‘Here is her party outfit and here is her springtime dress and here is her winter sweater….’ Oh sweet Jesus, it was bad.”
“Apparently, that didn’t dissuade him from getting some, so we got down to business. It was all great and fun until I accidentally elbowed him in the face and gave him a bloody nose! I had to stop and go get some Kleenex, which he shoved up his nose and left hanging out. Hot. His nose stopped bleeding but he said he could still taste blood in the back of his throat. Needless to say, we didn’t kiss after that, and I showed him to the door.”
Sometimes, the third hookup the toughest one of all: “I’m pretty sure I won’t hear from him again.” At least she can go hang out at the tattoo shop some more. But “the next time I go up there, if anyone asks about my cat, I’m turning around and walking out!”