Sex sells. So here is my story.
I have never been much of a party type person. If the truth really be known, I secretly hate them. I hate them because like a lot of people I can be socially awkward and a massive tool. I hate mingling because I never have anything good to say. As such, I have decided that from now on when I met someone at a party that doesn’t know me I will introduce myself as Johnny Ringo, stunt car driver.
But for some reason when I was 19 several friends and I decided that we would throw a party on our summer break from college. This has some precedent and I think we were trying to relive our glory days. The summer before college we threw a party but it was a special party. It was special because we had a stripper. Now that I am older I can tell you several things: 1—as strippers go she was butt ugly. 2—what she lacked in looks she made up for in inverted nipples. 3—the uglier they are the more they like to touch. This was pretty good situation for a bunch of 18 year old igmos. 150 bucks and she came to my house. I was working delivery pizza at the time and so my pockets were full of 1 dollar bills from a week of tips. It was great.
So this time we thought we would recapture some of that. Not that the first party was legendary, but it was. People would talk about it. I also think that I wanted to throw a party to feel like the center of attention because like a lot of people, I was a nobody in college. I had no identity and was basically a pathetic hanger-on type person. It may be shocking, but I was no good with the ladies and felt very out of place. For the most part, I thought a lot of the guys that I was hanging out with were a bunch of dicks. None were Hoss, none had any sense of loyalty and most of them were banging the evil Queen Kate, my girlfriend. It had not been a good year.
But this party was to get me back on my feet, back in the swing of things. It would rock, my old friends that didn’t go to my college would be there and once again I would be a legend. So sad, so pathetic. Looking back now I want to punch myself for being a pussy.
We had a year to revise our plans for this party. First and foremost, we knew what a quality stripper looked like. It wasn’t good enough to have just a stripper, we needed a good stripper. Second, we needed more space than the last time. It just so happened that one our friends parents were going out of town, so that was taken care of. Finally, through the experience in college we had learned about the great and powerful Keg. Yes, this time we would get a keg of beer. It would be great. I would be great. Bards will compose epic poems of me and our little band of brethren. In hindsight—group of pathetic guys trying to be cool. But seriously, a stripper, that was cool.
So we began to make preparations for this party. Another thing we learned in college was that strippers and kegs were expensive. We decided that the select few people that we had invited we would ask for donations. This was said with tact and taste: “If you want beer and a stripper, give me money.” We thought that a 10 buck cover charge at the door would pretty much cause us to break even.
We spent the whole day preparing for the party. We got someone to get the keg. We took the entire afternoon putting up the assorted glass knick knacks that mothers gather and placing them with anything of value in a locked room. We moved furniture and cleaned the pool incase any sexy ladies wanted to go skinny dipping. This was no half assed effort, this was a full on organized assault. All contingency plans were covered.
We were so stupid. God help us, we just were.
The party started off pretty good. 15 guys showed up. 15 of our most trusted friends who would have a great time, give us money and then sing our praises tomorrow morning. We hoped the chicks would come after the stripper had done her thing. This party was to be in stages, we are party Gods.
Even our surprise guest showed up behind door #1: The Lesbian.
I had never met a real Lesbian before that time and was interested to see her. Mainly because she was freaking hot. Seriously man, she was like porn Lesbian hot. Of course, I was 19 so maybe all young Lesbians were hot then that didn’t have a mullet. This is Texas, after all. But no, I refuse to believe that, she was hot.
And she brought her girlfriend which made her doubly hot. A lesbian is hot. An actively practicing lesbian is even hotter.
One of my co-sponsors of the party worked with her and was on pretty good terms. He invited her just on the off chance that she would come. I don’t think I would have had the stones to invite her, I’m a dork. I didn’t have very much confidence at the time because of Evil Queen Kate and her Saturday morning circle jerks with my college friends. Hello Pathetic, I’m Hossman, glad to meet you.
But back to the Lesbian, she was hot.
We had gathered enough money to pay for the beer and some of the stripper so we were pretty much feeling good. We knew we would lose out on some of the money but that is the price you pay for immortality.
An hour into it is when things got out of hand. Bad. It would appear that the 15 or 20 of our most trusted friends should not be trusted. Because they let everyone in town know that we were having a party and that party would have paid for nudity.
However, we were a flexible bunch so we turned no one away at first. Just give me your 10 bucks and you can come in. That worked until we reached about 50 people. But people kept coming and coming until the point I was starting to turn people away. Mainly, out of spite perhaps, I turned away the people that didn’t want to pay. They said they would just mingle. I called bullshit and told them to go mingle down by the 7/11 and to get gone. In hindsight, I should have just said Hello Madness, welcome to my party and wreck my shit.
Which is what happened. People started climbing the back fence until they got to tired to do that and just tore ½ the fence down. While they were tearing up the fence they thought they might as well tear down the basketball goal as well. And just for good measure, let’s break your Mom’s glass top patio table as well, how would that be? Fucking seriously people, this is why you were not invited.
I wish that would be the worst of it but it wasn’t. By now the stripper was 3 hours late and we did not appear to be delivering on our promise. The crowd was pissed. So pissed in fact that several decided to try and steal the keg. Now I’m not a small man and I was at the point where I had just decided to start punching people. The night was a disaster already so I didn’t really care who got in the way of my fist. They had the keg in the back of a truck before I was able to get there. I threw a couple people aside and then threw MY keg back out. Choice words followed. No stripper, a tapped keg and a riot brewing. My plan was to punch a couple of small guys first and send them down thus sending a message. It would be my Spartacus moment and at least I would always have that.
It was go time. Time to man up and lay down the law. I was in over my head. We all were. This was going to be bad and even I, in all my Hossness, could not hope to whip 20 dudes.
“Dude! The Lesbians are making out!”
That is the statement that saved us, the house and our legacy.
Immediately the fight and keg was forgotten as we all rushed back inside. This stuff only happens on Penthouse Forums, not in real life. No way this could be happening.
But it was. The two Lesbians were making out, right on the couch. Right in front of all of us. It was like we weren’t even there. There was groping and kissing and butt grabbing. Clothes stayed on, but still. Can you imagine? Let me paint the scene. The 15 original guys sat silently around the room. No one said anything for the fear that if we did we would ruin this magical moment. No one even breathed as we all took in the scene that would sustain us all for the next 10 years through lonely nights and scrambled cable porn. The Lesbians were making out. 15 of us, 18 to 19 years old, now reduced to peeping like 13 year olds, which truth be told is how we acted anyway.
Suddenly all grudges were forgiven. All bad blood melted away as the Lesbians got it on. It counts as one of the top five moments of my young life. I put it higher than my college graduation. One word folks, amazing.
The Lesbians stopped and laughed. We didn’t move for the rest of the night for the fear that if they decided to go at it again we would miss it. We didn’t talk, it was just understood that no one was leaving their spot.
The party broke up and eventually everyone went home. We spent the next two days repairing or replacing everything that was broken. We built a new fence and passed it off as just a couple of guys helping out their parents. We were the all American boys. We spent all of our money that we had made and then some. Unfortunately one of the douche bags broke into the locked room and stole credit cards and other valuables so we were eventually found out. But I don’t think his parents were all that upset since, they did have a new fence after all.
Like any good story this one to has a moral and a lesson:
Lesbians are superheros. God bless them. God bless them all.