Sassafras, Part 16

Joan


We started talking, and before I knew it I was babbling on and on about work. I didn’t want to bore him, so I had to think of something else to talk about. I remembered he had been telling me about computers, explaining about cyber sex. I noticed my hand was resting on his thigh so I started telling him how people in school used to write secret messages on each other, sort of like primitive cyber sex. I told him we used to do that in school, but I lied. I never had a boyfriend in high school. The only dates I ever had were pity dates arranged by Jenny. Nobody ever wanted to write me secret messages.

I spelled KISS on his thigh, and showed him a couple of the variations. After that he tried it, but he cheated. I was watching his finger spelling out ‘I’ when he leaned over and actually kissed me. I guess I should have seen that coming, but I was so surprised I almost dropped my cigarette. I tried to back away from him, but he still had his arm around me. I felt his hand caress my cheek, run up into my hair and pull me even closer to him. His tongue slid into my mouth, and it felt wonderful. Usually when a man shoved his tongue down my throat I felt invaded, like the Marines were landing on Normandy, but this was different. His tongue barely touched mine, gently caressing the tip. Before I knew it my tongue was curling around his, exploring his mouth.

I put down my cigarette, then closed my eyes and reached up, touched his face, felt his jaw, his cheek. I remembered thinking if we were in that hypothetical Middle Eastern country he would definitely have to marry me now. My heart started beating so hard I thought my whole body was going to start shaking. I don’t know how long I kissed him before I came to my senses. I never kiss anybody on a first date, and this wasn’t even a first date, just a casual encounter with a stranger in a bar. After I pushed away I was so embarrassed I couldn’t look at him. He surprised me by apologizing for kissing me, instead of trying for seconds.

I was never very good around men. In high school I was always in Jenny’s shadow, and then in college I made a series of spectacularly bad choices, which left me with the lasting impression that men were selfish, thoughtless, and dangerous. I didn’t have a real boyfriend until I went to college. We went out for about two months before I realized we had more study dates than real dates, but I thought any date was a good thing. I would have done anything for him, including having sex for the first time in the back seat of his Oldsmobile, the windows fogging up so much droplets ran down like little rivers. It wasn’t until afterwards that I found out he was also dating someone else, a girl from his French class. He laughed when I asked him about her.

Then my roommate talked me into going to a party the engineering department was throwing. I didn’t really want to go, but I thought what could happen at an engineering party? They would probably just sit around and talk about math or whatever engineers talk about. I was wrong. One of the guys was really nice to me. He kept giving me some kind of red punch, and the next thing I knew he asked me if I wanted a tour of the engineering department. He looked harmless enough, the kind of guy my mom would like, but his tour started and ended in the stair well. He started kissing me, and when I tried to make him stop he just pushed me down on the stairs and kept kissing me, his hands groping all over. When I think about that night I can still feel the edges of the stairs digging into my neck and my back. After a few minutes somebody else came in the stair well and I was finally able to push him off of me and run back to my room.

My last attempt at dating in college was the worse. I ended up in such a bad relationship I ended up moving to New York to get away from him. I ended up with my job at Starburst Properties and never looked back. It was hard work, but I loved it.

I assumed there were decent men out there somewhere, and I kept looking for one, but for some reason none of them ever showed any interest in me. I had as much evidence of Bigfoot, UFOs, or a second gunman on the grassy knoll as I had of a trustworthy man. Whenever I tried to go out and meet men I would get so stressed I would break out in hives, covered with hundreds of tiny red bumps, and if a man ever approached me I would freeze, feeling like a little bunny being sized up by a wolf.

I felt that familiar tight feeling in my chest start. I wanted to pick up my cigarette, but I was afraid my hand might shake. I hated feeling like that. If Rick hadn’t been sitting in the way I would have bolted for the door. I closed my eyes and tried to calm down. Usually, if I went on what I called a meditation vacation, just visualize myself stretched out in the sun on a beach somewhere, a breeze blowing in my hair, I would start to calm down. I did that all the time on the subway, although I learned the hard way not to close my eyes. This time it didn’t work. This time I visualized Rick stretched out next to me on the beach, his skin warm and salty, handing me a Mai-tai with a little yellow umbrella, and that just made me even more nervous.

I finally picked up my mug and took a drink, but I held it in both hands just in case I had the shakes. I glanced over at Rick, but when I saw he was watching me I looked away. I took another drink, then decided I didn’t care if my hand shook a little, I needed that cigarette. I needed a pack of cigarettes. I reminded Rick that Public Displays of Affection weren’t allowed, but he reminded me I wasn’t still in high school. I felt like I was. I felt like I was about 14, a little runt fighting a loosing battle with pimples, still wondering when I would ever need anything more than a training bra, hiding behind a book so I wouldn’t have to think of something to say if anybody started talking to me. Yeah, I was quite a catch in high school.