Thursday, June 7, 2007

Little Girl Lost

I pride myself on never taking any sexual activity for granted. I can recall intimate details with every woman I've had 'relations' with. For you wise asses thinking 'Yeah, but it's a short list to remember' while cracking yourselves up, I say fuck off. I would add that I've had more than my fair share. More than I really deserved.

Looking back at my sexual history, it startles me how many legitimately attractive women I've slept with. YAY ME!! The only one I wouldn't classify as such was Michelle, who permed her hair and wound up reminding me of Ronnie James Dio. I couldn't touch her again. It was quite distressing and I never could be honest with her about why things didn't work out between us. Can you imagine? 'Well, you see, you look like the lead singer of Black Sabbath with the new hair-do. And now that I have that image in my head, I'm repulsed by the sight of you. Nothing personal'. I think we can all agree that a fictional story was best for everyone involved. Even with my eventual disgust and my subsequent attempts to repress all memories of our times together, I can still recall vivid details.

If I were to be self analytical (not something I'm fond of as it can by highly troublesome), I would say that I relished each encounter because it was conceivable to me that it may be my last. I'm not a particularly good looking guy and never pursued women like my friends. If a girl showed some interest in my interest, then great. Otherwise, I moved on quickly and with little fuss.

This is not to say I'm a kiss and tell kind of guy, either. I don't remember these things so I can boast to my buddies. My best friend still doesn't know about many of the girls because he knows them and I somehow feel it inappropriate to share these things. Discretion has always been the name of the game. This same friend, however, has no qualms about sharing graphic details about any of the women he's had sex with. He seems to find it mandatory to explain which position a particular girl prefers and thinks it's entertaining to actually show me how he did it. Pig is the name of his game.

I bring this up not to get into who's right and who's not. Every guy has his own way. My personal opinion is that guys who tend to go on and on about it often are insecure about themselves and bragging makes them feel better. Boosts their ego, I guess.

Nor do I bring it up to pat myself on the back. I'm married now and with marriage comes a bit of perspective. Past lovers become grouped together as a collective 'them' once you exchange vows. There may be favorites (although don't ever admit this to your spouse), but they are only highlights of your training sessions.

No, I bring this up because I was sitting down with said buddy for a few beers the other night and he mentioned a girl I dated for while in high school. Not sure what brought it up, but he said something like 'Whatever became of that girl you dated senior year? What was her name?' Immediately I remembered her. Blonde haired, blue eyed, head turner named Charlotte that I was attracted to the first time we were introduced. Everything came rushing back. The first time we kissed, the first time more than kiss. I even remember the movie we saw that night - 'The Mean Season' with Kurt Russell.

These memories shocked me for two reasons:

1: I had completely forgotten about her. COMPLETELY! I never even gave her a thought since I was in college and ran into her at a party one night. In fact, I had forgotten her so completely that I had to update my count. That's right. I left her totally off my mental list!! What the fuck??!! I know I'm 40, but this memory loss seems to have started at 25.

2: Looking back, she was probably one of the best looking girls I ever had the privilege of seeing naked. But I remember her (and perhaps forgotten her, too) for another reason. She was the girl that made me realize beauty wasn't all that mattered to me. Sure she was a hot and had a great body and was...shall we say...skilled. But she also drove me crazy!

Charlotte was the first of my 'lesson girls'. By lesson girls, I mean girls I dated or had some sort of relationship with that taught me something about the opposite sex. For example, Michelle taught me that hair styles matter. Andrea taught me that you can have sex with a friend (Note: this lesson was only good for one summer). Eileen taught me it doesn't matter if she has a serious boyfriend. Sue glorified the notion of the rebound after breaking up with her fiancee. Debbie taught me that if she's memorized your Social Security and license plate numbers after two dates you're in some form of trouble.

Charlotte's lesson to me was this: I don't want to date an idiot. She epitomized the entire concept of dumb blonde. She had virtually no personality or opinions about anything! Every conversation with her went something like this.

Me: 'What do you feel like doing tonight?'

Her: 'I don't know. Whatever you feel like doing.'

Me: 'Well, I'm asking because I am out of ideas. You have any?'

Her: 'No, whatever you want to do is fine.'

Me: 'Are you even capable of forming actual thoughts?'

Her: 'Nope. See you soon.'

For the first month or so I could easily over look such things. The sparkle of some new relationships tend to blind you to the flaws. But it didn't take long before just hearing her voice would make me grind my teeth. My buddy (Mr. Pig) was incredulous! 'Dude, she is smoking hot! Why are you bailing?' I'm still convinced she's the one girl he would have screwed me over for. He had the serious hots for her. When I tried explaining it to him, he would just spin the argument back to it's starting point. 'But....she's hot!'

It wasn't enough. I wanted conversation. I wanted to hear a different opinion. I wanted an actual person beside me, not a Barbie doll. Years later, a friend of mine confessed to me that she never understood why I dated her. 'She wasn't your type at all. You didn't see that?'

Not only didn't I see it, I didn't even know I had a type. So thank you, Charlotte. I may have forgotten you for a while, but you're back with me. Hopefully, I won't lose you and the lessons you've taught me again.

Today's distraction: Test your senses. It's tough, but I know you'll do well. For the record, the King Kong - Godzilla question cheats. Oh, and I only got 11 out of 20. My senses suck.

No comments: