As always, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover this week, but I have to start with a little pimpin’.
You guys know I have my own advice column, right? Can you believe they actually gave me an advice column?
Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. I can’t even get my own love life up and running smoothly, how am I supposed to advise other people. Well, look at it this way. From my time as a bartender, I was asked for advice constantly, and over the years I managed to get pretty good at looking at a problem objectively. Provided, of course, it doesn’t concern, you know … me.
And now, back to the story.
Okay, when we last off, I had ventured up to Albany, New York, for a brief respite from the city and an opportunity to see my friends Mankey, Ethan, and Natalie. While on an apple-picking trip, I had a sudden resurfacing of a memory of a Halloween from a couple years ago.
After a face-kicking incident at a haunted hay ride, I found myself at an excessively libidinous party at the sprawling property of my friend, a saucy, buxom gal named Maggie. Attending the party was Gary, a hot-as-hell guy who I knew from performing in various community theater shows.
I had ventured down into Maggie’s basement — which I’m pretty sure is the set they used for at least three of the Saw films — to obtain more beer for the party. Gary, who had been ignoring me all night (just like he had for the past year) came down behind me, and when I turned around he shoved me bodily into the refrigerator.
“Oh, uh, hello,” I said.
“Did I scare you?” he asked.
“Totally. I thought you were the police coming to break up the party. Or maybe PETA. You know, on account of the ram.”
“What? Who’s Peta?”
“Right. So, crazy party, huh?”
And then, just like that, he was kissing me, and even though I knew he was kind of a dumbass and not worthy of my time, goddammit, he was a good-lookin’ dude, and there was so much sexual energy building up that night that I was helpless to resist. I had been crushing on Gary for so long, so feeling his mouth on mine and his hands being all like, “Heeyy-eyyy,” I just went with it.
After kissing for a while, he said, “Let’s go outside.”
Confused, I said, “Oh … kay.”
I grabbed two beers from the refrigerator — let the inebriates upstairs fetch their own drinks — and followed him out the basement/garage’s side door, which led out to the field, from which I could see the barn where Maggie’s super-hot straight cousin Joe headbutted a ram.
That was before I made out with Joe. Which he agreed to do so that three girls would bare their pert, 20-something ta-tas to him.
Look, it was a weird night.
I followed Gary out onto the field, up to a fence that separated the part of the field where the sheep lived. Yup, there were sheep and everything.
(Don’t worry, no one had sex with any sheep that night.)