Everytime I think I am alone in my weird, crazy, voices in my head, thinking out loud world, I meet someone that makes me feel normal again. This person is my hairdresser. We will call her Amorette. This is both to protect the innocent, and because she made me promise I would give her a fancy, exotic name. So Amorette (which is Latin for ‘Little Love’), this ones for you.
Amorette and I have lengthy, inappropriate conversations on a monthly basis while she makes me blonder and blonder. We bond over stories of lame ex-boyfriends, bad sex stories and embarrassing fat moments. The fact that she called me Skinny today and made my hair look fabulous has no bearing over the fact that I absolutely adore her and look forward to our monthly giggle sessions. I’m pretty sure when the other hairdressers see me come in, they roll their eyes and start playing circus music in their heads to drown us out.
So on this particularly sunny day, Amorette and I somehow got to talking about when we realized we were….um, kinky. I will have to keep my story a secret a little longer since my husband reads this blog and I want to save him the embarrassment of telling the world his wife is a porn star wannabe, and a little bit of an ex-slut. But as for Amorette, her story is fair game.
Amorette and her boyfriend have been dating for about a year and a half, which is almost a year and a half longer than the relationship might have lasted were she not bored and single, and just a little sick in the head. We will call her boyfriend Caleb which is Hebrew for ‘Faithful Affection’. I couldn’t find an exotic name for Creeper or Rapist so Caleb will have to do. I skipped ahead of myself, so let me get back to the story.
Amorette was telling me about their first date. It was uneventful and ended in a hug and a 'See Ya Later'. She had no intention of seeing him again. He was 10 years her senior and seemed to have the personality of a wet mop. But like I said, she was bored so when he called and offered to drive an hour and a half to come see her again, she figured, why not? Caleb asked if he could spend the night, and while Amorette was leary of this because A) reference the wet mop personality and B) she lived alone and didn’t know him very well, she didn’t want to seem like an giant, ungrateful ass monkey since he was driving all that way, so she said sure. After a hike and hanging out, Amorette made it clear that they were going to bed early…..to sleep. I shit you not.
Any women out there knows that the first night in a bed with a new man is spent doing anything but sleeping. And I don’t mean because this boats a rockin’ or because we are doing the horizontal tango. It’s because we are constantly aware of our bodies and how flat we can make our abs look or how perky we can make our boobs seem. God forbid we should fall asleep and let our gut hang out, snore or…dare I say it, fart. So she was surprised when in her half awake/half asleep, sucking in the gut sleeplessness, Caleb started to feel her up and kiss on her neck. She kept saying, this isn’t right, and I shouldn’t like it so she kept telling him no, but not really stopping it. Long story short, the next thing she knew his pants were off and she had a belly button full of perv juice. And while she felt slightly violated and unsure of exactly what happened, she was strangely, and newly intrigued by this night raping kink master. So after this, as she was lying there wondering if she had just been raped (yet knowing full well you can’t rape the willing), Caleb started playing with her hair. Post night rape. And the creepy meter started to rise again.
We were laughing so hard for so long that I never did get a chance to ask her what inspired her to see him further, other than the fact that he was still there in the morning which proved he wasn’t there just for some weird middle of the night drive by sperming, or if it was because she realized as weird as it is that he decided to make his move when she was sleeping when they hadn’t even kissed before bed, that she actually liked it.
What is the point to this demented little rape/sex story? I think back to ex-boyfriends and weird sexual experiences and for that moment in time, I didn’t feel alone. Plus, it was too surreal and funny a story not to be retold. This is what she gets for trusting me. I blame it on the bleach. It ate away at my sense of discretion. At least she was tipped well for her work and humility!
Amorette, when you and Caleb get married I will totally stand up and toast you both. With this story. But don’t worry, I won’t use your real names so no one will know.
My post giggle blondness