a true story of great sex, denial, bad sex, and hulking fathers (in that order).
Exaggeration quotient: 4 out of 10
Fabrication quotient: 2 out of 10
Once upon a time,
There was a boy who may or may not have been me.
I remember one of my first days in middle school when I was standing in the lunch line. Some short fat kid who was incredibly popular was standing in front of me. He had ridiculously curly hair. It was also jet black, and brown freckles covered his face. In any other universe besides the vortex that is the southwestern corner of Penn's woods, this kid would be labeled a mega-nerd. But no, in my school, this kid was royalty. Oh, adolescent ironies. (This kid would eventually disappear from my life and re-appear a few years later in high school after losing an inhumane amount of weight, which is great. I can't remember his fucking name, though.)
Anyway, this day was important to the story I'm about to tell, because it was one of the first days of my true sexual education. I was a golden child when I was younger. Church every Sunday, straight A's, sucked up to every single teacher in that stuck up, brown-noser way that makes other children jabber about how that kid falls into three categories: 1) He must come from a well-off family. 2) He was a pussy. 3) He was gay.
Of course, all of these things were true, but at that time, I hadn't a clue that any of these things were legitimate (or even real. I thought sinful shows like Roseanne fabricated horrid concepts like those of homosexuality). I wandered around in my little cloud of happiness, and truly believed that in every way, I was a model of society. Thusly, I was surprised when the fat kid in front of me in the lunch line, asked me:
"Jimmy, do you masturbate?"
Needless to say, I was appalled.
"NO, FAT KID. THAT IS SINFUL AND INAPPROPRIATE. PLEASE NEVER TALK TO ME AGAIN."
"Do you even know what it is?"
"..."
At this point, the fat kid and the tan girl in front of him (who I grew to adore in high school) laughed in my face. He then proceeded to show me what masturbation was by stroking a Coke can with his palm, and then moving his hand from the soda can to my face, whilst opening his palm in that "knock knock starfish joke" kind of way.
I proceeded to cry.
As a kid, I was terrified of the truths of sex and relationships. When I was much younger, in elementary school, when I slept over at my best friend's house, I would sneak little kisses on his cheek in the wee hours of the morning before he would wake up. But I would never say that I was attracted to him. Never, for years. I really loved the kid, but at that age, and at my level of awareness of the world, I didn't think it was possible. But clearly, as GaGa would say, I was born this way. I never acknowledged my feelings towards other men for years.
It's funny how hindsight is 20/20. Which thus, brings me into the meat of our story.
That's all for today, story lovers. Part 2 will be posted tomorrow. Post comments on what you think is exaggerated and/or fabricated. Will I tell? You'll have to wait and see!!!!
A new poll will also be posted tomorrow. Thanks for reading!!!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment