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The Party (Part 2: The after party)

The Party (Part 2: The after party)

After I went downstairs at Clark’s birthday party, I walked around with a new and seemingly undeserved confidence.  Smiling very wide, I went around to tell one of my buddies the good news about my very recent loss of innocence.  He gave me an emphatic high-five, and said “Oh man! That’s awesome! Which girl was it?”  I looked for a second, then found her by the speakers.  I pointed to her and watched, as my friend walked right up to her.  I didn’t think anything of it, and went to go fill my cup again.  I filled it to the brim, and as I turned around sipping my punch, I watched my friend go right into the bathroom with the same girl. She had just made me feel like a gentleman for the first time, and I would later find out that she was in that bathroom using her mouth in inappropriate ways.  She was not “The One,” and now I was determined to make up for her immediate infidelity.

The party started winding down late, when I got a call (before texts were the more popular booty call) from a girl who said she had been studying all night and wanted to let loose for a second with her full bottle of Patron.  I have never been one to say no to a girl offering free liquor and company at 3AM, so I obliged.  The events that would take place next almost simultaneously shaped my comedy career.  Even though my retellings of Dave Chappelle’s “Killing Me Softly” in high school were my first inclination that I wanted to be in comedy, I hadn’t had all the experiences I needed to make sure that comedy was definitely my field.  I got those experiences with someone I will call “3AM Patron Girl,” in my second sexual experience.

When she got to the house, we popped open the Patron in the bedroom that was still very empty for some reason (the owner was passed out somewhere else).  When the conversation finally went from “really awkward” to “slightly awkward,” I knew it was time to make my move.   We kissed on the very high bed, and went to take shirts off.  In that same motion, somehow we were both tossed right to the ground. More events like this happened the whole time.  I won’t get into the exact details, but I was very bruised the next day from accidental head trauma on the bedpost, an arm smash on a nightstand, and a lower back nudge from a doorknob.  And that was just the physical damage.  Emotionally I was probably scarred, but the loud fart that she let go in the middle of it wouldn’t allow me to properly process the overall experience.  And I know it was a fart because she apologized, saying, “Sorry, but sometimes tequila gets me gassy” right after it happened.  I couldn’t make up a story about “my family having to come over very early in the morning” faster, and sent her away, trying to quickly make my second time officially over.

Loss of virginity can happen at any age, with any type of person.  It is an experience that is very hard to forget.  Just to recap, my first time was with a girl who let it be known no less than five minutes later, that it was not her first time.  And my second time was with a flatulent girl with a strange tequila allergy.  They were not terrible experiences, but I have been trying to make up for them for the last 10 years with other women.  I love women.  I fall in love with a new girl every week.  But I love comedy even more, so at the end of the day, I wouldn’t change my initial foray into coitus for anything.


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