There is a time and place for introspection, and it shouldn't usually take place in the public sphere. However, this blog has certainly displayed a wide range of posts in the past, so I don't feel that what I am about to say will be out of place. My motive is to get some feedback on how to handle my situation. If you're not into "girl meets boy" stories, then by all means feel free to read something else.
My story starts around August 2003, set in one of my hometown's more dodgy establishments. I was 16 years old, and out clubbing for the first time with my friends. (Yes, I know, slaps on the wrist for being underage) It was a very exciting evening. I still have no idea why I got let into so many places that night without an ID. (I did eventually get my hands on a very convincing fake one) It could have been the low cut top I was wearing, courtesy of Glassons. (does anyone have taste at that age?) It could have been due to the charms of a very good looking friend of mine. We had just been kicked out of another establishment because of the antics of this friend and her aptitude for getting into fights, but there you go. So I maintain that sheer boldness got me in.
You see, it's all about the strut. You have to act like you're too good to get your ID checked. It's all about confidence, darling.
So after the strut inside I was in very high spirits. (for some reason this does not put me in high spirits anymore... In fact getting asked for ID at my age is much more preferable...) We danced, and caused a general raucous. I happened to spot a particularly fine looking specimen, and naturally, as I walked past him my hand strayed southward to Said Specimen's rear end for a squeeze.
I know, double slap on wrist for being inappropriately gregarious. You can see now why one of my favourite movies is The Sweetest Thing, though I have a feeling my life won't have the same ending. (Cameron Diaz gets married to ass grab victim)
Said Specimen tracks me down and approaches me soon after:
"I feel exploited, you brazen woman you. I'm not just a piece of meat you know."
I apologise, all of my initial brazeness melted away. I've always liked a man who believes in asserting his rights.
Said Specimen informs me that this is quite OK. We end up dancing.
Alright so we end up doing more than just dancing. In an act of disloyalty quite unlike me, I completely ditch my friends because Said Specimen happens to be very good at dancing, and even better at turning me on. If only my mind was stronger than my carnal urges, sigh. Well I suppose it was, it's not like we did anything X-rated on the dance floor.
I find out his name, (I can't honestly remember if this was before or after tongue wrestling with him) and we end up sitting outside on a bench. Ashanti, Into You is blearing from inside. He tells me he was Head Boy at his school, which totally impresses me, being the geeky Prefect. He offers me a ride home, which I gracefully accept.
I remember his car being red and sporty, which should have set off alarm bells. It was probably one of those nasty Honda Preludes, which are only driven by munters. It is about 4 in the morning. We pass Kylie and Cara on the way to the car, who are not impressed with me. Not one bit.
We arrive outside my house and he ends up kissing me goodbye. I suggest that we probably shouldn't be doing this outside my house, where strict rules about this type of behaviour are in place. We end up somewhere else, terribly enough, nextdoor to my high school. I'll have to get a bit fuzzy here, I'm afraid. Being a girl of taste and all that.
But I can say that I didn't go "all the way with him," which at this point in time I am yet to actually do.
Now, by no means am I old fashioned, but this old trick seems to work. Said Specimen texts me the next day. And the day after. This goes on for some time.
I have no idea why Said Specimen put me into such a state. Maybe it's because, to this day, he remains the only guy who knows all the right places, so to speak. (So much for being a girl of taste) But for that period I was distracted and dreamy, and my phone suddenly needed constant topping up.
It was a couple of weeks before I saw him again. In that time I had my first School Ball.
(Coincidentally my ball date's name rhymed with that of Said Specimen's, which put my friends in a right rut when we were talking about them)
Like many foolish 16 year olds, I had always thought that the Ball would be a fitting night to lose a certain thing. Given the fact that that didn't happen on the night (not for a lack of guys trying to) I was er, somewhat ready to, following the event.
But I won't tell you what happened yet. No, I'm not trying to get your attention with a "To be continued," I have other things to attend to. The point of this story will be revealed shortly.
Although, I forgot to tell you what Said Specimen looks like - tall, dark hair, brown eyes. Half Maori, but you wouldn't guess by looking at him. (I never thought I would have jungle fever) A rugby player's body, and the most devilish smile.
The kind that makes you forget your insides for a moment. The kind your mother warns you about. The kind you should sensibly walk away from.
Nevertheless, I didn't.
Talk soon.
xx L
