The Big Blue Bug and Other Rhode Island Landmarks
I confess I like a good verbal skirmish and hard as it is to believe, I get a little "feisty" after a few scotches.
A couple of dates in and four scotches later at the Wild Colonial finds me talking about how most of my closest friends are also ex-girlfriends – We now refer to this phenomena as the X-Factor. My date has the audacity to question my emotional need to keep these women wrapped like "binkies" around my life….."Don't you think that's a little fucked up?"
It's like that scene in the Color Purple when Squeak slaps Sofia in the gin joint and all the air is sucked out of room… the crowd backs up and you hear "UH-OH" right before Sofia decks Squeak with a single knockout punch.
Me:
"Are you judging me? What the fuck gives you the right to judge MY life?"
Her:
"I'm not judging, I swear… I'm not judging… noooo definitely not judging"
Me:
"I am not THAT girl, ok? I am NOT. Get me the fuck outta here"
Her:
"Wait! I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything… I swear I'm not judging, Holy Fuck… Listen to me – please?"
Meanwhile, I am already up and out the door… but of course I have no car – so my dramatic exit is wasted. (Kinda like when you end a fight by walking out of the house saying something stupid like "Have a nice life" as you slam the door behind you and realize you hafta go back to retrieve your car keys!)
My date is terribly gracious (terrified may be a more appropriate description). She is talking me down from my scotch induced – completely self fabricated - ledge. I am adamant about going home, no ifs ands or buts. I didn't know her that well then but she pretty much had my number from the start. She is a total goofball and she made me laugh.
As someone close to me once said about yours truly…. "Let me give you the keys to the city… Two things, Tell her she's beautiful and make her laugh… it's a slam dunk homerun". Apparently the late Ms. Monroe and I have that in common… if you can make us laugh, you can make us do anything.
I'm trying to stay mad – and I'm trying not to laugh but it was an exercise in futility – she really is one funny bitch. I knew my tantrum was completely ridiculous but … hell if I would ever admit that!!
In our dialogue she asks … What do I want to do?…. Where do I want to go? Hard to believe right? This chick is such a trooper she wants to continue our date!!! I respond that:
"I want to hang upside down from the Point Street Bridge, in my underwear".
Back-story: This has been my stock answer for years…. Anytime there was no answer to be given or a ridiculous response was called for…. That was mine. You all have one, I know you do… Don't you?
When I say this girl had my number… she only had my area code and the first three digits…. After all, it was barely our second date.
So, she's all ballsy and shit. She drives to the Point Street Bridge where we park the car and both get out. I proceed with my cocky ass self to the railing in the dead center of the bridge and climb over…. This is where she stops me, right? Actually – she did… to REMIND me that I said in my underwear and I still had my pants on. Damn, if she wasn't right!! So I huck myself back onto the sidewalk – Drop Trou – and for the second time that night, clamber back over the railing and resume my position…. In just my underwear.
None of this sounds sane – does it? To her absolute credit, she didn't believe I was serious and even if there was a shred of doubt… she didn't believe I would go through with it.
As I sat backwards on the ledge, squirming my legs through the railings… my date paled visibly. In sheer panic, the poor girl could think of nothing to do or say – so she walked away unable to watch the drunken horror unfolding before her.
Off the bridge I went. Backwards, hanging by my knees… my hair streaming downward towards the highly polluted Providence River (and I wonder why I have split ends). I stayed that way for what seemed like an eternity … it was kinda fun, the head rush was similar to a ride at six flags.
Now, the hanging upside down wasn't the problem… it was the getting back up without falling that was posing the conundrum. My date had fortunately composed herself enough to walk back, bearing witness to said insanity. She was able to drag my ass up and back over the railing to the safety of my pants, previously discarded on the sidewalk.
I felt Euphoric. It was my tag line and I actually did it! I was giddy with a false sense of pride and accomplishment. I was ushered back into the parked vehicle and whisked away from the scene of the crime – back to my house where I could no longer pose a threat to anyone's health and safety.
All the way home – she kept saying… "I can't believe you just did that…. I can't believe you just fucking did that…. I can't believe I just let you do that".
All the way home – I kept saying… I can't believe I just did that …. I can't believe I just fucking did that ….. I can't believe you just let me do that".
We dissolved into hysteria, giggles turned to laughter which in turn became tears streaming down our faces and severe lack of oxygen intake.
We barely made it into the driveway…. Somehow we made it into the bedroom and the sex was fucking amazing!
Appropriate newly dating conversation, the etiquette is as follows:
Don't discuss ex- girlfriends if at all possible and never ask the crazy drunk girl what she'd like to do next.
Common Sense Rule 2.
If a dare devil suggestion is made on a date with someone you barely know…. Weigh up the risk… is truly dirty, nasty, hot and heavy sex worth the next day's headline of:
"Lesbian Lover Falls Naked to her Death. Weird Sex Play Scandal Suspected"
Personally, I'd say yes because nothing can make a girl scream like a near death experience… You however, may want to stay home and order a pizza.
Luke I am Your Father
A couple of dates in and four scotches later at the Wild Colonial finds me talking about how most of my closest friends are also ex-girlfriends – We now refer to this phenomena as the X-Factor. My date has the audacity to question my emotional need to keep these women wrapped like "binkies" around my life….."Don't you think that's a little fucked up?"
It's like that scene in the Color Purple when Squeak slaps Sofia in the gin joint and all the air is sucked out of room… the crowd backs up and you hear "UH-OH" right before Sofia decks Squeak with a single knockout punch.
Me:
"Are you judging me? What the fuck gives you the right to judge MY life?"
Her:
"I'm not judging, I swear… I'm not judging… noooo definitely not judging"
Me:
"I am not THAT girl, ok? I am NOT. Get me the fuck outta here"
Her:
"Wait! I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything… I swear I'm not judging, Holy Fuck… Listen to me – please?"
Meanwhile, I am already up and out the door… but of course I have no car – so my dramatic exit is wasted. (Kinda like when you end a fight by walking out of the house saying something stupid like "Have a nice life" as you slam the door behind you and realize you hafta go back to retrieve your car keys!)
My date is terribly gracious (terrified may be a more appropriate description). She is talking me down from my scotch induced – completely self fabricated - ledge. I am adamant about going home, no ifs ands or buts. I didn't know her that well then but she pretty much had my number from the start. She is a total goofball and she made me laugh.
As someone close to me once said about yours truly…. "Let me give you the keys to the city… Two things, Tell her she's beautiful and make her laugh… it's a slam dunk homerun". Apparently the late Ms. Monroe and I have that in common… if you can make us laugh, you can make us do anything.
I'm trying to stay mad – and I'm trying not to laugh but it was an exercise in futility – she really is one funny bitch. I knew my tantrum was completely ridiculous but … hell if I would ever admit that!!
In our dialogue she asks … What do I want to do?…. Where do I want to go? Hard to believe right? This chick is such a trooper she wants to continue our date!!! I respond that:
"I want to hang upside down from the Point Street Bridge, in my underwear".
Back-story: This has been my stock answer for years…. Anytime there was no answer to be given or a ridiculous response was called for…. That was mine. You all have one, I know you do… Don't you?
When I say this girl had my number… she only had my area code and the first three digits…. After all, it was barely our second date.
So, she's all ballsy and shit. She drives to the Point Street Bridge where we park the car and both get out. I proceed with my cocky ass self to the railing in the dead center of the bridge and climb over…. This is where she stops me, right? Actually – she did… to REMIND me that I said in my underwear and I still had my pants on. Damn, if she wasn't right!! So I huck myself back onto the sidewalk – Drop Trou – and for the second time that night, clamber back over the railing and resume my position…. In just my underwear.
None of this sounds sane – does it? To her absolute credit, she didn't believe I was serious and even if there was a shred of doubt… she didn't believe I would go through with it.
As I sat backwards on the ledge, squirming my legs through the railings… my date paled visibly. In sheer panic, the poor girl could think of nothing to do or say – so she walked away unable to watch the drunken horror unfolding before her.
Off the bridge I went. Backwards, hanging by my knees… my hair streaming downward towards the highly polluted Providence River (and I wonder why I have split ends). I stayed that way for what seemed like an eternity … it was kinda fun, the head rush was similar to a ride at six flags.
Now, the hanging upside down wasn't the problem… it was the getting back up without falling that was posing the conundrum. My date had fortunately composed herself enough to walk back, bearing witness to said insanity. She was able to drag my ass up and back over the railing to the safety of my pants, previously discarded on the sidewalk.
I felt Euphoric. It was my tag line and I actually did it! I was giddy with a false sense of pride and accomplishment. I was ushered back into the parked vehicle and whisked away from the scene of the crime – back to my house where I could no longer pose a threat to anyone's health and safety.
All the way home – she kept saying… "I can't believe you just did that…. I can't believe you just fucking did that…. I can't believe I just let you do that".
All the way home – I kept saying… I can't believe I just did that …. I can't believe I just fucking did that ….. I can't believe you just let me do that".
We dissolved into hysteria, giggles turned to laughter which in turn became tears streaming down our faces and severe lack of oxygen intake.
We barely made it into the driveway…. Somehow we made it into the bedroom and the sex was fucking amazing!
Appropriate newly dating conversation, the etiquette is as follows:
Don't discuss ex- girlfriends if at all possible and never ask the crazy drunk girl what she'd like to do next.
Common Sense Rule 2.
If a dare devil suggestion is made on a date with someone you barely know…. Weigh up the risk… is truly dirty, nasty, hot and heavy sex worth the next day's headline of:
"Lesbian Lover Falls Naked to her Death. Weird Sex Play Scandal Suspected"
Personally, I'd say yes because nothing can make a girl scream like a near death experience… You however, may want to stay home and order a pizza.
Luke I am Your Father
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