When I was about 22, I was engaged to the man known today as bachelor #1.
Bachelor #1 had made some really bad decisions in his life; which lead him to, among other embarrassing consequences, living with his brother and family. This really put a cramp in our plans for getting busy. (Unfortunately, I hadn’t caught on to the loser status just yet….we were together just a little bit longer)
I picked him up for a conjugal visit; and he suggested we find a nice dark parking lot to get our grove on. I was young…what the hell.
Just behind a community fruit stand the ol Sundance started rockin. 3 minutes later (Ha Ha Ha Ha) we tie off the glove, tossed it out the window and headed off to our favorite dive on Rainier Avenue.
When I told the story of my adventure with my friend Blaire, her eyes almost fell out of her skull. You see, Blaire was the most inconsistently paranoid person on the planet. She wondered if I was concerned about them testing it for DNA. Surely they are going to find out it was me…wasn’t I worried about the penalty?!? This coming from the person who was caught having sex in the men’s bathroom and got us kicked out of Azteca!
But it worked! I was freaked out. At 2 am, I swooped her up and he headed to the fruit stand with flashlights. We needed to find it before they do and send it to the crime lab.
God I miss her…..and my 20’s.