Monday, 22 June 2009

• The Proposed Threesome And Why It Was So Shocking

  Hmm, I'm doing a lot of posting tonight, even for me, but telling that last story which took place in those crazy bar fly days puts me in mind of another story that I have never, ever forgotten, but never thought to write about either.  Now is the time to tell it I guess, and if my niece is reading this well, you might not want to continue because it does get a little racy; in fact, I insist, stop. Go read me on politics or something, see ya hun, xoxo.

  ...So back in that day it was not too shocking to get asked to have a threesome (and by that I mean two women and one guy) because...I don't know why, it just wasn't, not in the places I went and the groups I hung around with anyway.  It just wasn't. And when this story is set, this was either before or after Chuck, I don't remember which, but it's the same bar. It's kind of blurry all the time back then, but he and I were together for.. maybe 2 years, but I'm thinking it was after. Anyway, so here is how it goes.

  I am "dating" this guy named Bruce.  And I put the word dating in quotation marks because, actually, it wasn't technically dating as people think of it today, but it was dating that way that crowd, my crowd, thought of the definition of that word at that time.  Bruce and I never went out to dinner and the movies or any of that stuff, but, at the end of an evening, more often than not, he was the one I went home with (or took home with me). So anyway, there was also this girl who attended happy hour (and, for definition and clarity necessary to the story, happy hour started by 5 p.m. and lasted approximately 9 hours (give or take, with closing time at the bamboo cafe being 2 a.m., and assuming we didn't all take the party over to city of night, [the all nighter drag bar]).

  Her name was Petra (I know, I know, the German/Austrian association again, and that has only now clicked in my mind). I don't remember her as having anything but an American accent, but I do remember that woman was drop dead gorgeous. One of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, on screen or off. She was always laughing, always, and you could hear her laughing from anywhere practically, but it was not unpleasant, and she had this killer smile and perfect body. She was brunette with these startlingly bright blue/green eyes and very very feminine, very curvy (but not at all heavy curvy, not that I would have cared). Anyway.

  (I could not describe him [Bruce] nearly so clearly, it was a long time ago).

  So one night, she and I were at the bar like always; he was not there for some reason. And that night the place was not so crowded as it usually was, and always right between midnight and 2 a.m. that place was breathing room only.  I remember I was wearing this green dress with a wide black belt and I am sure I had on heels so apparently I was working in my job at the psychiatric hospital.  I guess I didn't make it home before happy hour that night because normally I'd be wearing jeans, but I remember that night so well, and it is kind of marked in my mind by that green dress (maybe I should never wear green, it seems to get me into all kinds of trouble).

  So I was sitting there on the bar stool next to Petra and we were just talking like mad as always (after all, we dated the same guy in some sequence or another which neither of us were ever very good at keeping straight) and I'd say maybe it was about 10 p.m., maybe later; she was hammered apparently, and more so than I had realized.  And I don't know to this day who started it, but all of a sudden we were kissing just about as passionately as I've ever kissed anyone in my entire life, and so that to say, pretty damn passionate.

  I can't remember if the bar stools were nailed...no I remember now...(I remember now, Chuck was always over turning the things backwards which would result in him falling on his head and three of us to stand him back up and get him out to the vehicle) OK so we were able to get those bar stools very very close together and Petra and I were just making out for the longest time. Wow that was passionate; it was extremely intense. And apparently neither of us cared where we were or who might be watching or what at that point, she and I were off to the races and all other bets were off. 

  So everybody left us alone for quite a while, but then eventually this guy sidled up to us - and we both knew him of course as Clyde-with-the-powerful-reefer-Clyde (hereinafter referred to by me as sleezyclyde) the fellow barfly. So Clyde goes, "Why don't you both come over to my house," (which, translated means let's go smoke some weed).  So we go okay and somehow he gets us outside.  I remember she and I were in the back of his vehicle and he was driving (don't laugh!) and, happily, he lived considerably farther from the bar than most of us did so it was a nice long ride during which Petra and I could probably not have been separated with a paint scraper.

  Next thing I remember is being up on Clyde's couch with Petra, and the makeout session was as ongoing as ever and then some, and Clyde's over there rolling up some big old nasty spliff on his glass table, and then, too soon, he lights the damn thing and hands it to Petra.  Petra takes a big old hit of it and blam.  Lights out. Clyde always had killer pot but this was ridiculous and I kept hoping she would kind of snap out of it but she just fell out like a rag doll and pretty much all she could do was make moaning noises.

  He gets her in the bedroom after that (creep) and I was so so mad at him!  But I was in there too because I don't trust him (Clyde and I are not interested in one another that way, never were) but I was in there and every time he goes to fool around with her I was like "stop."  So I was trying to guard her, I guess you could say. And he'd be, like, "You're just jealous."  And I'm like, "No, you asshole, it's rape you are up to," which was a rather dubious position on my part with Petra laying there moaning happily, but anyway, I stayed long enough to sober up and then I left; I must have called a cab. 

  Anyway, within a day or two I had told Bruce what had happened because it was practically like all in the family; if you are a barfly, happy hour is your home turf anyway, he dated her, then me, then her, and back and forth, but by my recollection at that time he was dating her. 

  Well. Petra was mad at me then I guess; either way she didn't want it to come out despite the fact that she could have cared less the night before, so she told Bruce I was lying.  Never happened, according to Petra. And that bastard believed her!  "I know you go both ways but not her, she doesn't" he kept saying.

  I didn't waste any time trying to find witnesses because after all life goes on, but things did get a little strained and awkward between Petra and myself after that much to my disappointment.  But I was also kind of mad at her for lying and making me out to be a liar, so I'll never know exactly for sure why I made the subsequent decision I made - I really don't quite remember why. 

  It was six months later, maybe a year. Bruce and I were great friends as always, and things were still quite weird with Petra.  I think I remember being kind of tired that night and wanting to make it an early night, but it also might be true that I was going to a different bar. I am not sure which, but I think it was the former and I was walking out to go to my vehicle, and walking right past Bruce and Petra who are sitting at the bar as always, but Bruce stopped me.

  So, thinking he just wanted to talk or something, I go, "I'm heading out."  And Bruce holds onto my arm and he goes, "We want you to come home with us."  And I was like, "What? Nooooo way you want that!"  And there's Bruce just grinning from ear to ear, so I take my eyes from him and slowly turn my head to lift my eyebrow at Petra. "Really?"  says my eyebrow, and this time the question was directed straight at her. 

  "Really, it's not just him asking, I'm asking too," says Petra with that laugh, and there they are just both sitting there grinning like mad,  and I just remember kind of shaking my head and thinking that life is nothing if not unpredictable. 

  I also remember, oh so clearly (too clearly?) that I declined the offer, but I don't remember clearly at all as to why.  And, to this day, I don't quite remember exactly why. 

  Oh and P.S. I never saw either one of them again. I believe I drifted away from that bar for a while or something, I don't remember why that is, either.

  Is life ever this weird anymore?  What is it like nowadays, "out in the world"? Any wild stories of your own?

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