Sometimes I Actually Have

I hope it doesn’t shock some of the younger Junk Thief readers, but from time to time your beloved old doddering Uncle Junk Thief has played a bit of the tramp role. Though I've never been the outright slut, if only due to a short attention span if not lack of will. However, there have been a few episodes in recent years that make me wonder why I went through the effort. Reading a recent entry over on Mr. Peenee’s blog got me to thinking of a few of these from the recent past and realizing that I wonder if I went through it all just to gain fodder for stand up comedy material. Perhaps with the holidays coming, I might do a more formal inventory, but I found these three surfacing this evening as I was washing dishes and not paying attention to an interview on KQED-FM with Barry Bonds at the Commonwealth Club. (By the way, the "Hims" are three different ones, not repeating players.)

Around May 2001

Him: (After realizing that his coworker R_______ had once dated my ex A_______ ) You’re so much better looking than R _______. Why would A _______ leave you for R_____?

Me: Oh, he didn’t. We were living together at the time, and A____ tried to convince me that he R _____ were just friends and that it was just a chance for him to go to the Oracle Christmas party so he could be introduced to Larry Ellison.

Him: You know everybody at Oracle was gossiping about that, how R ______ made such a fool of himself by dragging around that little gold digger A____ fawning over Larry Ellison. We thought he was going to try to get in Larry’s pants next. You were so lucky to get rid of A_____. You deserve so much better.

Me: (Kissing his forehead). I love you.

Him: Does this mean you’re going to let me go home with you after all?

Me: No, I’m still not going to do that, but I love you.

Around November 2001

Him: (Unbuckling his belt, looking at the comforter on this, his first time with me) I don’t remember it being brocade.

Me: (Unbuttoning the last button of my shirt) Oh-kay.

Him: D_____ doesn’t live here anymore…does he?

Me: No. (Standing motionless, almost ready to button up my shirt. He grabs the back of my head, a kiss begins and lasts about 90 seconds.)

Him: He couldn’t kiss worth a damn compared to you.

Me: (Repeating what we just did, taking about twice as long and with three times as much intensity.) Thanks. (My shirt on the floor, I maneuver off my pants seemingly without hands as I maneuver him onto the bed.)

Him: The hall was this ugly dusty rose then, not that gorgeous gold. It's not even gold...more like a royal butterscotch.

Me: Yeah, the dusty rose was D _________’s color.

Him: (After I let him gasp for air.) And the gold is your color. (I devour him again.)

Me: Yep. ( I continue.)

Him: You taste better and have better taste than D____ on top of it.

Me: You’ll stay for breakfast?

Him: Absolutely..

Around February 2002

Him: I hope this doesn’t sound too weird.

Me: Try me.

Him: The only way I can really get off is if you push your forehead into my right elbow.

Me: Okay.

Him: Seriously. And it has to be the right elbow. Left elbow: now pay dirt.

Me: Like this? (I push my head in the designated place lightly.)

Him: (With a shriek that is a cross between a rabid hyena and a five year-old girl getting tickled). WeeeeeHEEEEEEEE—AAAAAAHH!!!!!. Oh yes, like that.

Me: (Pushing again, with force this time.) Alright.

Him: WAHHHHHHAAAA-EEEEEEEH

Me: And that does the trick? (Pushing with firm force.)

Him: YahAAAAAHH-HEEEE-HEEEE! Almost there! Almost there!