I have many friends who are always complaining about being single. And I am truly sick of it! I don’t care that you are single and that you have no one in your life. Perhaps if you stopped whining for 20 minutes, changed your super-airbrushed picture on craigslist.org and didn’t go down on the guy in the first 15 minutes of your “date,” you might have a boyfriend.
I have many friends who are always complaining about being single. And I am truly sick of it!
I don’t care that you are single and that you have no one in your life. Perhaps if you stopped whining for 20 minutes, changed your super-airbrushed picture on craigslist.org and didn’t go down on the guy in the first 15 minutes of your “date,” you might have a boyfriend.
Alas, I am human and have moments of weakness. It is in these moments that I am inclined to share this story with my lonely friends. We often gloss over the messier parts of dating, but no amount of glossing will fix this story that happened to one of my close friends. He is an attractive 23-year-old guy, a college graduate, living a life that most would deem quite normal. As I coo to my self-loathing single friends: If this can happen to him, what chance do you have?
“Robert,” returning from nine months in Iraq, was excited about coming home to see his family, but more importantly, his girlfriend. He hadn’t known “Courtney” for too long, having gone out on their first date less than four months before being deployed, but their constant correspondence had built a strong relationship.
Upon returning home and having dinner with his family and close friends, he and Courtney left his mother’s house in Beaverton and headed to the suite Courtney had arranged at the Hilton. This night was going to prove to be exciting, but for reasons that neither partner had shared with the other.
Robert had sent money home to his best friend, “Jed,” to pick up the engagement ring he had picked online at a local jeweler. He was now carrying the diamond ring in his breast pocket and was waiting for the champagne to be uncorked so he could get down on his knee and ask the question he was terrified to ask. Courtney had with her, in the small bag she was carrying, makeup, perfume, sexy lingerie and a brand-new adult toy purchased just for this occasion.
Without Robert’s knowledge, Courtney had recently attended a party thrown by one of her co-workers. This party was an excuse for the ladies of her company to get together after work, drink wine and buy adult toys. Courtney, probably having had too much wine (as she was known to do), purchased a very stimulating toy, which she now carried with her. It was a bubble gum scented, two-foot long string of hard-plastic pink anal beads. It was with this toy that Courtney had planned to share their exciting evening.
This is the part of the story where you will thank me if I spare the details. Let’s just say that with a great deal of booze, lubricant, and time, Robert had, with Courtney’s help, “experimented” with the entire strand of beads. Courtney, drunk herself, sitting across from the bed where Robert lay naked on his back, uttered three words that will probably haunt both of them for the rest of their lives: “Take them out.”
Robert, a strong man, ready to move on with the evening, took hold of the exposed beads and in one pull, and with both hands, removed the beads in a motion usually reserved for reeling in a marlin while deep sea fishing. With this swift motion, he pooped all over her.
The pain was worse than anything he had ever experience before. Robert remembered screaming but not passing out. Upon waking up, he discovered the beads lying on the floor next to where Courtney had been sick. Courtney was in the shower, washing off what her body had shielded from hitting the wall.
That was the last time that Robert and Courtney saw each other. Robert still has the engagement ring and hasn’t decided if he will be selling it. What he does know is that it cost him an extra $235 to have the suite steam cleaned. Happy dating!