My First Serious Girlfriend
It was at college - over Christmas break. Everyone had gone home for the holidays but I was working nights as a security guard. One early evening before my shift I was walking through the dorm halls reading the crap that everyone put on their doors to express their unique personality. It was eerily quiet. Sort of like those scenes from The Shining except I wasn't riding a Big Wheel tricyle. I was wearing flip flops, shorts, and a Led Zepplin swan song concert shirt I stole from my room mates closet.
I rounded a corner and heard some music. "Somebody else is here I thought." I came up to her open door. The Cure was blaring from her mini-rack system. She was dressed in black and was writing the lyrics to the song on the wall in her own blood squeezing a large cut on her left index finger.
I stood there watching for a while and then she sensed my presence and - without turning - told me to come in.
I stepped in two feet and the smell of her Cloves cigarettes clouded my conscious. The music was pounding into my head. The blood nauseated me. I didn't realize that she had pinned me to the wall with a fericious kiss that didn't let me breath. My tongue was being ripped from my skull. We made out for a few minutes - hours?
Suddenly she pulled away. "Let's get some tacos," she said.
We walked in the cold down to the village where the restaurants were. She talked in a low monotone murmur. I didnt' interrupt. She had a theory about Satre and Faucault and how this all influenced some obscure lyrics written by that bald guy from Midnight Oil. She seemed to need to get this out and off her chest. I listened in a haze. A residual contact high.
A pizza place was open and a mexican spot. At El Conquistador, they sold tacos out the front for $1.30 and weed out the back for slightly higher prices. I was too keyed up for the weed. She didn't ask. She ordered 7 tuna tacos with pico de gallo and walked away from the counter leaving me to pay. Cisco walked back to fetch something from the kitchen before I could pay.
"We he brings the tacos don't pay," she whispered. "Huh?" was all I got out.
Cis' rounded round to the front counter. I saw a blur in my clove burned peripheral vision.
"Starkweather ain't shit," she screamed as she hurled herself over the counter and took down Cis'. He didn't know what hit him.
I stumbed back a bit against some gum ball machines. One tipped over and colors rolled across the floor. She popped back over the counter, grabbed the tacos and told me to move it. She quickly bent down and picked up a purple gum ball popped it in her mouth and squeezed it between her teeth so that her saliva stained purple and covered her teeth.
"So what's your major?" she asked.
"I haven't decided," I replied.
"Really? That's not good. You gotta have a major. I don't go for that 'trying to find yourself crap'. If you don't have a direction in life, you'll never get anywhere."
I nodded agreement and followed her out to the parked lot where we stole a VW bug.
We dated for three years.
Stay You.
Back to Main Page
I rounded a corner and heard some music. "Somebody else is here I thought." I came up to her open door. The Cure was blaring from her mini-rack system. She was dressed in black and was writing the lyrics to the song on the wall in her own blood squeezing a large cut on her left index finger.
I stood there watching for a while and then she sensed my presence and - without turning - told me to come in.
I stepped in two feet and the smell of her Cloves cigarettes clouded my conscious. The music was pounding into my head. The blood nauseated me. I didn't realize that she had pinned me to the wall with a fericious kiss that didn't let me breath. My tongue was being ripped from my skull. We made out for a few minutes - hours?
Suddenly she pulled away. "Let's get some tacos," she said.
We walked in the cold down to the village where the restaurants were. She talked in a low monotone murmur. I didnt' interrupt. She had a theory about Satre and Faucault and how this all influenced some obscure lyrics written by that bald guy from Midnight Oil. She seemed to need to get this out and off her chest. I listened in a haze. A residual contact high.
A pizza place was open and a mexican spot. At El Conquistador, they sold tacos out the front for $1.30 and weed out the back for slightly higher prices. I was too keyed up for the weed. She didn't ask. She ordered 7 tuna tacos with pico de gallo and walked away from the counter leaving me to pay. Cisco walked back to fetch something from the kitchen before I could pay.
"We he brings the tacos don't pay," she whispered. "Huh?" was all I got out.
Cis' rounded round to the front counter. I saw a blur in my clove burned peripheral vision.
"Starkweather ain't shit," she screamed as she hurled herself over the counter and took down Cis'. He didn't know what hit him.
I stumbed back a bit against some gum ball machines. One tipped over and colors rolled across the floor. She popped back over the counter, grabbed the tacos and told me to move it. She quickly bent down and picked up a purple gum ball popped it in her mouth and squeezed it between her teeth so that her saliva stained purple and covered her teeth.
"So what's your major?" she asked.
"I haven't decided," I replied.
"Really? That's not good. You gotta have a major. I don't go for that 'trying to find yourself crap'. If you don't have a direction in life, you'll never get anywhere."
I nodded agreement and followed her out to the parked lot where we stole a VW bug.
We dated for three years.
Stay You.
Back to Main Page
posted by Howard McEwen, CFA at Thursday, March 23, 2006
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