I Forgot How to Transition

Amber spotted my Shepard Fairey poster mounted on the wall.

"So, did you vote for Obama?"

I sensed the disdain in Amber's question and I didn't like it. I raised an eyebrow and pushed my tongue forcefully to the inside of my cheek.

"Why yes I did. Who did you vote for?" She had only been in my place for 10 minutes. This was already over before it begun.

Amber: Well, I actually didn't like either candidate.

So@24's Inner Monologue: Alright, time for the backup chute.

So@24: What did you think about Prop 8?
Amber: Oh it was a tragedy that it passed.

Whew. Alright. I can focus on that.

This exchange would prove to be perfect foreshadowing for rest of the evening. Me forcefully looking the other way about a variety of Amber's "quirks" and trying to zero in on the stuff that just "wasn't so bad".

This was to be expected, I knew that coming in.

Amber was not as bad as I had remembered her. Perhaps in those two years she matured a little bit. But she still has a long way to go.

We both had little to go off of so the main focus of conversation turned to an unspoken agreement of "well, let's take shots of alcohol and see where it takes us". This was just going to be physical. But we already knew that. Wink.

I invited my friend Jenny and her boyfriend Danny to join us. I knew ahead of time Amber and I would run out of things to bullshit about, so I needed the extra support. The restaurant we agreed to meet at was busy, so Danny came up with the great suggestion of heading back to Sexy Dojo and ordering in pizza.

As the tally of rum shots began to climb, so did my perspective of what Leo has been trying to tell me for the past few years. I was beginning to see through his lenses. I didn't really care what happened at the end of the night either way. If she wanted to stay over, great. If she didn't, well that was fine too. When you don't care either way, when nothing is really invested; your confidence level sky rockets.

So after Jenny and Danny leave and after about shot 8, I go in for the kiss and a make out session began.

However. I forgot how to transition.

Amber was wearing one of those dresses where the giant belt comes right up under her boobs. Her boobs were pouring out of the top like an opened can of Pop n' Fresh. It was actually quite beautiful. I almost wept.

I digress. The problem was, I forgot how you move from making out to... well, other things. Especially when the girl is wearing a dress with a giant, awkward belt. And, let's be serious, the dress is essentially just a giant piece of cloth. It's very difficult to maneuver.

When she was kissing my neck, I actually furrowed my brow and contorted my face trying to work out how I was going to solve this dilemma. I haven't had to solve a problem this difficult since my days of The Incredible Machine.

And like The Incredible Machine, when I couldn't get those fucking pulleys to work in my favor, I succumbed to my frustration and gave up. It came back to me (very quickly) what it is like to make out with someone and have to try and gauge their responses... to read into their ever action in order to figure out if they want to go further. You have to go with your gut and while we were having a good time drunkenly sucking face, I got the sense she was content with where we were at.

When I was in the comfort of a committed relationship, I remember hearing stories from people saying "We just made out. Nothing else." I grabbed my sides and pointed at my friends, laughing at their misfortune. "How can you just make out?? We're not 7th graders. We're adults now. I just can't visualize a scenario where it just stops at making out? It's impossible."

I got a giant dose of my own medicine. Because I learned that it's very possible.

Again, I was fine with it. I didn't care either way. A makeout sesh was cool. We passed out like drunk kittens. She left in the morning without any awkward goodbyes.

I forgot how much I miss girl hair. The smell. And nothing beats running your fingers through it.

Good shit.