Heres a sample of a little thing I call:
How I Came to Know Some Things about Women
I can screw up all by myself. I don’t need anyone’s help. I’ve managed to do myself more harm than most just by trying to be honest and truthful. I’ve proved it many times over. Like the time I told my boss, the VP of Lending, that he was an incompetent asshole. That turned out to be a real career breaker. It was true of course, just not something that I should have shared with him. A month later I’d developed a conflict of interest with my employer and was terminated. I was guilty of a few things but not really bad enough to get fired over but if your boss is gunning for you, any excuse will do. I’ve done this sort of thing with women too, telling them how I feel. Most simply tell me to go #@%* myself. I still do it and they still tell me where to go. As I’ve matured thought I have been able to dodge the infamous “is my butt too big?” question with both honesty and evasion.
Her name was Charlene but everyone called her Charlie. She was an artist and not just with oils and a brush. I believe her favorite expression went something like this “If I don’t have a good time, you won’t either”, and she meant it. We met at work. She’d just graduated from the University of Michigan with a fine arts degree. She looked like she was fifteen so I checked her ID. She really was twenty two. After graduation she couldn’t find a job in her field of study so she took a summer job at the club I worked at. She lived just a about a mile away and rode her bicycle to work. She was a counter attendant in the club snack bar next to the pool. Since she was a little older than the rest of the staff both they and I relied on her to keep the place under control. She was short, barely five feet and very well endowed, a “healthy” girl. Sometimes I wondered how she was able to stand upright. Her sandy blonde hair hung to her waist but was usually done up in a French braid. Her blue eyes were always smiling, as long as she got her own way. Cross her and you might just cut yourself on the sharp look she’d give you. She once gave me a hairbrush for my birthday so I’d be able to brush her hair for her when she stayed over. Like I said, she liked things her own way.
We weren’t in love, we were in lust. She liked sex and so did I or I thought I did until we began to have sex. We dated a little, you know the movies or a dinner then one night she suggested we go to a drive in movie. There were still a few around the city at this time and I hadn’t been to one since my brother and I double dated twins. Now that’s a story I’ll save for a much later time. Anyway, I remember the name of the movie was “Under the Rainbow” and had something to do with the problems the production company had in dealing with all the midgets and dwarves they’d hired to play Munchkins for the “Wizard of Oz”. I never got to see much of the movie. Charlie was, shall we say, an aggressive lover. After a few moments of hugging and kissing I began to become a little more intimate. That’s when I heard it.
“What are you doing?”
I thought I’d offended her so I began to apologize. I may be a pig, but I am a respectful pig.
“Sorry, I thought you wanted to be more, you know…” I really didn’t know how to say “I thought you wanted to screw.” and make it sound sincere.
“No, I wanted to know what you were doing, because if you thought that was going to turn me on, boy are you mistaken. Don’t you know how to get a girl excited? How old are you? You should know better by now. Come here and let me show you what works for me.”
And so I did. And so she did. Now I was a single thirty two years old man at the time and thought I’d been around a little, you know. Suddenly it was a whole new ball game and I was absolutely mortified and embarrassed to think that I was thirty two years old and a woman ten years younger had to show me how to excite a woman. Charlie was indeed very good at explaining what made her happy and over the next few weeks she took it upon herself to teach me just how I could pleasure and satisfy her. She was, like, on a mission to enlighten me on the female body. I found it to be a truly great and wonderful experience. We became “Buddies”. She described it like this, “Friends are Friends, and Pals are Pals, but Buddies sleep together”.
After a little while it dawned on me that maybe there was even more that I needed to know, and so I did what I usually did when I wanted to gain knowledge. I went to the library. Now I can and have embarrassed myself through my own ignorance on a variety of different subjects over the years, but I have to tell you, this was perhaps my most embarrassing. I had to ask the librarian to refer me to the proper section and frankly, I had no idea where to begin to look. The sixty some year old lady took in my shaking hands and the embarrassed look on my face and asked how old my son was. She assumed that I was going to have, you know, “The Talk” with my boy. I told her he was eleven. She thought that might be a little young but did think that I was a very responsible parent to be so concerned about giving my son the proper information at the appropriate age. I really didn’t consider this to be a lie, more of a lifesaving effort. If I told her the real reason I just knew I’d die of embarrassment, or she’d have stroke from laughing too hard. She led me to a section of the library and pointed out a row of books and left me to select the ones I felt would be the most use. Over the next two weeks I think I read every one on the shelf. I was totally amazed and totally pissed at my dad for not telling me this stuff sooner. Now I knew why some of my lady friends had dumped me.
