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My First Trailer Park Girl

I used to occasionally hit up this biker bar on my way home from work. I didn’t really fit in at all, but I liked to “people watch” from time to time. I stopped in one night and although I could very well have gotten my ass kicked, I didn’t, and I walked away with this story to tell.

It was your typical biker bar. Lots of guys wearing leather vests, getting into fights occasionally, drinking Bud and doing shots of Jack. I don’t even remember how this came about, but I ended up picking up a chick one night who lived across the street in the trailer park. She convinced me to bring her home and I parked in front of her trailer. We sat on her picnic table for a little while and were all over each other. She finally invited me inside and I thought I was good to go. As soon as we stepped through the door we were greeted by some guy who was completely naked. He just stood there looking at me and I just about shit my pants, wondering how quickly he could grab a gun which I’m sure he had. Turned out the chick was married and her husband was in the trailer waiting for her to get home. I don’t think he realized he was naked, because after about 20 seconds he finally said “oh shit, I’m as naked as a jaybird” and covered up. The girl told him I was a friend of hers and offered to bring her home. I made a quick exit and didn’t go back to that bar for a while after that.

This Is Not My Office…

I love that one line from Beverly Hills Cop where Paul Reiser gets busted in the chief’s office and plays dumb by saying “this is not my office”.  I’ve had the opportunity to use it myself.

My ex-girlfriend and I took a trip to Dallas a couple of years ago.  She had family that lived there and her cousin took us out to a bar one night.  The bar was pretty cool…an older looking Irish Pub with a cobblestone floor.  At some point I went to the back of the bar to use the bathroom and when I came out I noticed another door.  Curiosity got the best of me, so I opened the door and took a peek.  It was another section of the bar that was closed off.  My ex came out of the ladies room about that time and asked what I was doing.  I grabbed her hand and dragged her into the other section with me and shut the door behind us.  We hopped behind the bar, I lifted up her skirt, and she just leaned on the bar like she was waiting for a customer.  A few minutes into this we heard footsteps, but it was too late.  Two guys and a girl came in through another door, apparently a rear entrance to the pub, and totally busted us.  There was nothing we could do to hide what we were doing, so I just kept on going.  They made some comment like “yeah, way to go” and I said “this is not my office”.

We eventually made our way back to the table with her cousin and got all sorts of looks, like they couldn’t believe we just did that.

My Birthday But My Brother Got the Present Too

When I turned 30 I wasn’t like most others who had an early mid-life crisis.  I embraced it.  I wanted to have a good time, so I threw a big party in my own honor.  I rented out a clubhouse in the neighborhood I lived in, got a couple kegs, had a band, and enough Jell-O shots for the whole neighborhood.

One of the girls who showed up was a girl I dated for about 3 weeks and worked with a few months earlier.  My brother had the hots for her, but it was my birthday so I wasn’t about to give her up that easily.  Pretty much everyone at the party was ripped, and the girl asked to talk to me in private at one point.  The clubhouse was just one big room, so there really weren’t any private areas.  We ended up sneaking off into one of the closets where they kept the brooms and mops.  We talked for a bit and then some old feelings came out in us (thanks to the alcohol of course) and she started going down on me.   After a few minutes we could hear people looking for us and walking right past the door several times.  At one point they even tried to open it but I had locked it from the inside.

We eventually made a graceful exit from the closet and nobody even noticed we had been in there.  I didn’t tell anyone what had happened until the next day, so clearly my brother had no clue.  A while later my brother was hitting on this girl and ended up kissing her.  Poor guy…if he had only known where her mouth had been before that.

The Best Line Ever During Sex

One summer I lived in a room of my fraternity house with three other guys.  It was a pretty small room (for 4 people) divided into two sections.  When you first walked in the door, to the left was the sleeping area, and straight ahead was a living area with TV, couches, and a bar.  Since I was the one that hooked up the room for the summer I had the better of the three beds.  It was a huge loft, probably 6 feet wide by 8 feet long.  Two of my roommates slept directly underneath my loft.  This summer has been referred to as the “summer of love” for me because I hooked up with quite a few chicks.  We literally went out to the bars every night except 6 nights the entire summer.  One night I decided it would be a good idea to call my ex-girlfriend for a booty call.

We had been broken up for a while and hadn’t even spoken for a couple of months.  That didn’t seem to matter, because she was over in about 20 minutes.  We all hung out for a bit and then finally the ex and I climbed into  the loft.  The roommates were directly below us, but I could have cared less – my ex and I started going at it like the good ol’ days.

Now during this time (mid 90’s) there was a popular commercial out for Little Caesar’s Pizza featuring Evel Knievel where the punchline was “Are you feelin’ it Evel?”  I thought that would be a funny thing to say during sex, so you know what happened next.  We were going at it and I started smacking her ass really loud and blurted out “Are you feelin’ it Evel?”  My friends about died from laughter, and still joke about it to this day.

Where’s My Mommy?

A few years ago I lived in a townhouse with two guys and a girl.  The girl had her sister visit for a few days, and the sister brought a friend who was married and had 3 kids.  It was a lot of people in a little three bedroom townhouse, but I made the best of it and tried to conserve space if you know what I mean.  The friend was a heavy set black girl, and I was determined to hook up with her because I hadn’t been with a lot of black girls.  We all went out to a bar one night and I was really pouring on the charm.  By the time we got back home we were pretty liquored up and the inevitable happened.

She came into my bedroom and hopped into bed with me around 3am.   We made small talk for a bit and then started going at it.  I was so drunk I couldn’t get a nut, so it just went on for hours, doing pretty much everything under the sun to each other.  Finally around 7am we heard a little noise outside my bedroom door, so somebody was awake.  Next came a knock on the door and it cracked open right after that.  Who the hell was coming into my room when I was with this chick?  Turns out it was one of her kids, and he politely asked “is my mommy in there?”  What the hell was I supposed to tell him, that I nailed her for a few hours and she was passed out?  “Nope, haven’t seen her but I’m sure she’ll turn up”.  He shut the door and went to watch cartoons or something.  A little while later she got up, and the second she walked out my door her son was there waiting and said “I knew you were in there, I heard you”.

What’s Wrong With Your Arm?

One of my friends threw an outdoor 4th of July party this past summer. He had kegs, a band, a bunch of guys and very few women. Quite the “sausage fest”. I brought a girl I was living with at the time, so I knew I was getting laid no matter what. The guy that threw the party lived in an apartment with one neighbor who lived below him. The party-goers started drinking around noon, and around 8:00 his neighbor came home. The neighbor seemed a little weird when I first met her, and she seemed to be a little annoyed at all the people in her back yard. She was 52 years old and about 250 pounds. As it got later and the volume got louder, I bumped into the neighbor on my way into the house and figured I should be extra nice to her. I didn’t want her calling the cops to shut the party down, so a little pre-emptive small talk ought to do the trick.

She ended up bringing me into her apartment to show me around. After a while we ended up in her bed and she was giving me a blow job. Something didn’t quite seem right. She kept trying to re-position herself and it sounded like she was doing sit-ups or something. Whatever she was trying to do it was taking all her effort. While I was laying back enjoying myself the girl I had brought to the party with me was banging on the door. She sounded like she was about to break the door down, but I didn’t care. I only had one thing to accomplish, and it had nothing to do with her. I had been in this chick’s apartment for a couple of hours at this point, and when I left my friends just looked at me and said I’m sick.  I looked around, ready to face the girl I arrived with and she was nowhere to be found.  At that time I also noticed my car was gone too.  She had my car keys and had left me stranded at this party now.  She only had the key to the car and not my house, because this wasn’t the first time she left me somewhere.

I thought about reporting the car stolen because I was pissed, but figured it wasn’t worth it. I had to convince the girl I just hooked up with to bring me to my house now, 20 miles away.  It took some talking, but she agreed to bring me if I gave her a few bucks for gas.  I didn’t have any cash with me, so I had to ask my friend ‘Captain Chaos’ (more on him in another post someday) and he gave me $5.  We get into the girls car and I notice a handicap permit hanging from the mirror.  I look to my left and there’s a knob on the steering wheel…the kind that handicapped people use to turn the wheel if they only have one arm.  I don’t know how I missed it up until this point, but the girl had something wrong with one arm and couldn’t use her hand.  No wonder she was grunting and groaning when we were in bed earlier.  Did I really just hook up with a girl that had a clubbed hand?  You betcha, and I couldn’t wait to tell the story to my friends.

When I got home the first girl had busted one of my windows out and was in the house.  I was so pissed that I didn’t even talk to her even though she wouldn’t stop trying.  The next morning I had to call Captain Chaos because he had hooked up with the girl from the party a few weeks earlier.  He didn’t answer his phone all day.  Later that night I got a call from the guy that had the party, and he was laughing his ass off.  He said when the girl got back from dropping me off, Captain Chaos had gone into her apartment and hooked up with her.  This is less than 2 hours after I did.  Talk about sloppy seconds!

Was There a Monkey in Here?

One of my old coworkers got married a few years back, and his wife really has him by the balls.  Before they actually got married he wanted to have a bachelor party, but she didn’t want him to have one.  They compromised and he was allowed to have one, as long as it was at my house.  In retrospect, she may have known something that I didn’t.

It was a small group of guys, maybe 6-7, most of whom I didn’t know.  The bachelor was all excited to have a night without the future wife, so we stocked up on plenty of booze.  A few hours in, we started talking about liquor.  He said how much he liked Wild Turkey, and I said “what a coincidence, I have some in the kitchen”.  All I had was Johnny Walker Red, so I thought I’d try to trick him.  He ended up drinking a good part of the bottle himself, and after every shot he’d say “gobble gobble”, which just added to the humor for the rest of us.

We had strippers come over, one of which was an old roommate of mine.  I didn’t like her, but I knew how she was and that she would show the boys a good time.  They showed up late, took my cash, started arguing with me, and then left 2 minutes later.  Yup, ripped off by a couple of whores.  Sadly, that’s not the worst part of this story.

Once people had either left or passed out, my roommate went to the bathroom before going to bed.  He had to work the next morning, so he was pretty much sober.  He got within 10 feet of the bathroom door (which was shut) and told me to come over there.  It smelled horrible, like…well, like exactly what it looked like.  He opened the door, and the bachelor who had been in there for about 10 minutes prior had smeared shit all over everything.  It was on the toilet seat, on the sink, on the door, in the tub, on the walls….literally everywhere but in the toilet.  It was one of the most disgusting things I have ever seen.

My roommate told me to clean it up and I said I’d do it the next morning.  He was pissed because he knew why I said that…he had to work the next morning and I didn’t.  How was he going to take a shower when it looked like the inside of a mud hut?  He did end up cleaning it while I tried to make sure the bachelor didn’t get any more throughout the house.  He was passed out on a blanket in our living room, with flies landing on his head, shit stains on his forehead, the whole nine.

I told this story to another friend a few days later and he was about as disgusted and shocked as I was.  His comment really cracked me up: “He smeared it all over the place? That’s what monkeys do at the zoo”.

Oops, Was That Your Head?

I got a call a couple months ago from an old coworker of mine who was in town on business.  We worked together about 5 years ago and kept in touch since.  She has had the same boyfriend for 15 years, but one night when we used to work together we had some drinks and ended up sleeping together.  She wasn’t the best looking girl…an 80’s hairdo and the chest of a 12 year old boy.

She called me up when she came to town and we were supposed to grab a few drinks to catch up. She got a boob job 6 months earlier, so she wanted to show those to me as well.  I could never get her to send me pictures, because she knew I was going to share them with another one of our old coworkers who had been asking for the same thing.  When I met her at the bar, she had already been drinking with her coworkers for a few hours, and she was pretty well drunk.  I had some catching up to do, so I was doing shots, but every time I ordered one she did the same.  I knew it wasn’t a good idea for her, but there was no stopping her.

After we were out for a while and she had shown her new tits to the entire bar we headed back to her hotel room.  Within 3 minutes we were both naked, and she finally let me get that picture I had been asking for.  Took it on my cell phone since I don’t carry a camera with me.  I hopped into bed and we were joking around a bit, then she rolled over toward the edge of the bed to get up.  As she did, I gave her a joking shove on her back, and she was so drunk that she just kept on rolling right out of the bed.  I heard a bang and she came up from the floor holding her head.  She had hit it on the nightstand.  I didn’t push her hard, and certainly didn’t mean to hurt her, so I asked if she was OK.  She sat on the other bed for a second, then pointed to the door and said “I think you need to leave”.

I was in the hotel room for a total of about 5 minutes, and here I was putting my clothes back on already.  The truth is I wasn’t really drunk enough to get it on with her, so in a way I was relieved.  I went to grab my cigarettes from the table and they were gone.  I said “you’re stealing my smokes too?” to which she replied “yup”.  As soon as I walked out the door I had a feeling she was going to follow me and ask me to come back, so before that happened I started running down the hallway and dipped around the corner.

I emailed the pictures to my friend from the parking garage before I left, and copied her on the email.  Her titties looked good, but if you polish a turd it’s still a turd.

Who Says Virginia Girls Aren’t Easy?

Several years ago my friends and I used to frequent a local bar in Virginia.  Every night seemed the same…get home from work, drink, go out to this one bar, drink some more, and then head home to nurse a hangover.  Any of my friends will agree, I do some pretty stupid things when I’ve been drinking.  After all, that’s the basis for this entire blog.

We were all leaving the bar one night after last call, and we had stepped out the front door.  I caught a glimpse of this woman across the street and told my friends to hold on a minute.  They knew I was just crossing the street to make an ass out of myself, but they waited for a minute.  I started talking to this “lady” and within 3 minutes I was hopping into her car and off to her house.  She was big, she was in her mid 50’s (I was probably 26 at the time), and she had a mole on her cheek the size of a quarter, complete with two black hairs growing out of it.   In that state I didn’t care.  I only had one thing on my mind.

We made it back to her place and sat on the couch for about 15 minutes getting to know each other.  Like that really mattered, or like I wanted to know anything about her.  Eventually we made our way to the bedroom and got down and dirty.  I was so drunk I actually went down on this nasty woman, and it makes me nauseous to this day.  Right now you’re thinking I have no shame and yes, you are correct.  Once we were done I called my friend and asked him to pick me up.  The last thing I wanted to do is wake up next to this lady.  He laughed at me, said have a good night, and hung up the phone.  What a dick.

I had to have the chick drive me home the next morning, bright and early.  I almost threw up in her car but managed to make it home.  Any normal person would accept the fact that they did something as nasty as I did and then move on with their life.  Not this kid.  I was out a couple weeks later at a little dive bar.  A friend was visiting and we were just hanging out all day getting ripped as usual.  I was trying to think of chicks I could call for an easy hookup, and she was my last resort.  I actually called from the pay phone because I didn’t want her to know my number.

“Hey there, it’s Jake from a few weeks ago, remember me?”

“Yeah, what’s up”

“I was thinking I should come over again tonight”

“That’s funny, I was thinking you should never call me again”

Did I really just hear that from a woman with nothing going for her?  I don’t remember, but I probably cried myself to sleep over that one, and laid my head on a pillow instead of a nice soft mole.