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05 Temmuz 2022, 10:22
(Author's note: This is my entry for the Christmas 2013 Contest. It builds up over time, slowly at first, as David and Lauren's relationship changes over five Christmases. Please enjoy and don't forget to vote! --Theworldspins)
***December 11, 2000: Pfeiffer and Melinda's Christmas Bash***
I wasn't completely wasted when I first met Lauren, but the alcohol was definitely flowing, the party was in full swing, and I was in a state of stupid, inebriated bliss. In part, my mood was due to the booze, of course, but it was also just the feeling of release at the end of what had been a long, dark semester. I had lost a girlfriend, sprained an ankle, survived my parents' divorce, and almost not survived a chemistry class I needed if I was ever going to graduate. It felt good to let loose, before I headed home for the holidays.
Getting drunk and spending one last night with friends for a while wasn't my only goal that night, though. I was looking forward to my chance to talk to a girl I'd had my eyes on for a month or two, a friend of friend of a friend. I'd met her at Halloween, dressed as an angel. I might have poked a hole in my costume just looking at her?she was that hot. I learned she was best friends with my friend Pete Pfeiffer's new girlfriend of the month, some chick named Melinda. This girl, who had the utterly terrible name Charleen, was just my type: petite, blonde, fair-skinned, and hot in a "girl next door" kind of way.
She was kind of shy, but I knew that this party would be my chance to get her talking. I had no expectations of actually getting lucky tonight, but I thought that I could at least plant the seeds for next semester. I was a junior in college, and I was starting to think about finding a girl for longer than a month or two. It wasn't too hard to find freshmen girls to spend the night with, but as college girls got older, they started thinking a bit more seriously about a relationship, at least back then. I hear today that college is some kind of non-stop fuckfest, which is terrifying to the thirty-three year old version of me now, with two young daughters.
I was playing it cool, talking to everyone but her, but keeping an eye out, waiting for my moment. This might sound like I was being a complete chicken, afraid to make a move, but I can assure you I had a really good plan, only I can't remember it many years later. What happened next, though, changed everything. If I would have walked up to Charleen, broken the ice, chatted her up, then asked her for her number, maybe we'd have met when we got back to campus. Maybe we'd hook up, fall in love, get married, and live happily ever after, and I'd have little blonde kids and a little blonde wife who adored me and never caused me heartache. This isn't that kind of story, though.
"What do you think?"
I turned around to see a striking girl?more a woman than a girl?standing behind me, holding a hideously blue drink and leaning in over my shoulder.
"What?" I responded.
"I say she looks sweet, but take her back to your room and she's got a huge bush. I mean, like, '70s style," she said, slurring her words a bit.
Needless to say, I was a little taken aback. I didn't even know this girl, and here she was talking about pubic hair before even introducing herself. I might have been shocked, but I was always quick on my feet, even when I was tipsy.
"No way," I told the girl. "You see how lily-white she is? I'm guessing German ancestry. She's shaved it into a swastika."
That got a laugh out of the drunk girl. I took a second to look her up and down, as sneakily as I could. She was hot?not my usual type at all, but hot, with a great laugh. I wanted to hear it again.
"Any more theories on the pubic coiffure of our friends here?" I asked her.
"Coiffure? You've got to be an English major," she replied.
"You know it's French, right?" I said drily, before cracking a smile so as not to seem like a dick.
"Excuse me," she said in an exaggerated voice. "I liked your guess better than mine. Make another."
"Oh, it wasn't a guess," I told her, winking.
"So you've fucked her, then!" she responded laughing. "Here I thought you were just slinking around like a little puppy dog in love."
The first thing that crossed my mind was that she was wrong. I was not slinking around; I had talked to everyone, told a few stories, drank more than a few drinks. She would have to have paid pretty close attention to me to even notice how I was watching Charleen.
"No, you've got it all wrong," I told her. "I've never slept with her. I've just seen her pubes?everyone's here, actually. It's a tradition at Pfeiffer's parties. Hope you're well groomed for show-and-tell later."
She laughed again. Good.
"Can't groom what you don't have!" she said, arching her eyebrows.
I must have blushed, because she looked really proud of herself. She was upping the ante since I had handled her first attempt at shocking the prude. I wasn't going to let her win this game we were playing.
"Too bad," isveçbahis (http://isveccasino.com/) I said. "There's a prize for fullest bush?year's worth of hedge trimming from Pfeiffer's dad's landscaping business."
I thought blue cocktail might shoot out her nose she laughed so hard.
"Ohhh, gross! Way to kill the mood, dipshit," she said jokingly, punching me in the arm.
So there was a mood, I thought. Interesting.
"Hey, so, I'm David. David Mauer," I said to her, expecting her to finally introduce herself.
She rolled her eyes.
"Lame. I'm totally not having sex with you tonight, so can we just go back to the actually fun conversation we were having?"
This time, I really was shocked.
"Hey, I never said anything about?"
"Sorry," she interrupted. "It's just...let's not ruin things with awkward get-to-know-you shit. So...you're David, David Mauer. I'm Lauren, Lauren Connors. Now be funny again, funny man."
"So is that it, huh? I'm some kind of dancing monkey here to amuse you?" I said, pretending to be hurt.
"Not at all. A dancing monkey would be really, really entertaining," she replied, her tone again lighthearted. "You're just...OK."
"Well I don't want to be funny. I want to know how you knew I was into Charleen," I told her.
Lauren smiled. She had a great smile, broad and toothy without looking silly. Again, she wasn't my "type": her skin was olive, a little Mediterranean, and her lips were thinner than I normally liked. When she smiled, her dark eyes wrinkled at the corners and her cheek bones drew upwards just a bit. She did have the button nose that I like so much, and the long, shiny hair, though hers was dark brown, almost black.
"Probably from the way you eye-fucked her while you were sipping that girly drink," she replied wryly. "I hope your eyes used protection."
"It's a gin and tonic!" I exclaimed, defending myself.
"I know, right? You might as well be wearing a dress," she replied, trying to get my goat again.
"Sorry, we can't all be drinking?is that Windex?" I said, gesturing to her electric blue concoction.
She shrugged her shoulders exaggeratedly and flung her hands out a bit, almost sloshing some of the toxic drink out onto the carpet.
"Hello: girl drink?girl. I can get away with it," she said.
"There's a world of difference between a G
***December 11, 2000: Pfeiffer and Melinda's Christmas Bash***
I wasn't completely wasted when I first met Lauren, but the alcohol was definitely flowing, the party was in full swing, and I was in a state of stupid, inebriated bliss. In part, my mood was due to the booze, of course, but it was also just the feeling of release at the end of what had been a long, dark semester. I had lost a girlfriend, sprained an ankle, survived my parents' divorce, and almost not survived a chemistry class I needed if I was ever going to graduate. It felt good to let loose, before I headed home for the holidays.
Getting drunk and spending one last night with friends for a while wasn't my only goal that night, though. I was looking forward to my chance to talk to a girl I'd had my eyes on for a month or two, a friend of friend of a friend. I'd met her at Halloween, dressed as an angel. I might have poked a hole in my costume just looking at her?she was that hot. I learned she was best friends with my friend Pete Pfeiffer's new girlfriend of the month, some chick named Melinda. This girl, who had the utterly terrible name Charleen, was just my type: petite, blonde, fair-skinned, and hot in a "girl next door" kind of way.
She was kind of shy, but I knew that this party would be my chance to get her talking. I had no expectations of actually getting lucky tonight, but I thought that I could at least plant the seeds for next semester. I was a junior in college, and I was starting to think about finding a girl for longer than a month or two. It wasn't too hard to find freshmen girls to spend the night with, but as college girls got older, they started thinking a bit more seriously about a relationship, at least back then. I hear today that college is some kind of non-stop fuckfest, which is terrifying to the thirty-three year old version of me now, with two young daughters.
I was playing it cool, talking to everyone but her, but keeping an eye out, waiting for my moment. This might sound like I was being a complete chicken, afraid to make a move, but I can assure you I had a really good plan, only I can't remember it many years later. What happened next, though, changed everything. If I would have walked up to Charleen, broken the ice, chatted her up, then asked her for her number, maybe we'd have met when we got back to campus. Maybe we'd hook up, fall in love, get married, and live happily ever after, and I'd have little blonde kids and a little blonde wife who adored me and never caused me heartache. This isn't that kind of story, though.
"What do you think?"
I turned around to see a striking girl?more a woman than a girl?standing behind me, holding a hideously blue drink and leaning in over my shoulder.
"What?" I responded.
"I say she looks sweet, but take her back to your room and she's got a huge bush. I mean, like, '70s style," she said, slurring her words a bit.
Needless to say, I was a little taken aback. I didn't even know this girl, and here she was talking about pubic hair before even introducing herself. I might have been shocked, but I was always quick on my feet, even when I was tipsy.
"No way," I told the girl. "You see how lily-white she is? I'm guessing German ancestry. She's shaved it into a swastika."
That got a laugh out of the drunk girl. I took a second to look her up and down, as sneakily as I could. She was hot?not my usual type at all, but hot, with a great laugh. I wanted to hear it again.
"Any more theories on the pubic coiffure of our friends here?" I asked her.
"Coiffure? You've got to be an English major," she replied.
"You know it's French, right?" I said drily, before cracking a smile so as not to seem like a dick.
"Excuse me," she said in an exaggerated voice. "I liked your guess better than mine. Make another."
"Oh, it wasn't a guess," I told her, winking.
"So you've fucked her, then!" she responded laughing. "Here I thought you were just slinking around like a little puppy dog in love."
The first thing that crossed my mind was that she was wrong. I was not slinking around; I had talked to everyone, told a few stories, drank more than a few drinks. She would have to have paid pretty close attention to me to even notice how I was watching Charleen.
"No, you've got it all wrong," I told her. "I've never slept with her. I've just seen her pubes?everyone's here, actually. It's a tradition at Pfeiffer's parties. Hope you're well groomed for show-and-tell later."
She laughed again. Good.
"Can't groom what you don't have!" she said, arching her eyebrows.
I must have blushed, because she looked really proud of herself. She was upping the ante since I had handled her first attempt at shocking the prude. I wasn't going to let her win this game we were playing.
"Too bad," isveçbahis (http://isveccasino.com/) I said. "There's a prize for fullest bush?year's worth of hedge trimming from Pfeiffer's dad's landscaping business."
I thought blue cocktail might shoot out her nose she laughed so hard.
"Ohhh, gross! Way to kill the mood, dipshit," she said jokingly, punching me in the arm.
So there was a mood, I thought. Interesting.
"Hey, so, I'm David. David Mauer," I said to her, expecting her to finally introduce herself.
She rolled her eyes.
"Lame. I'm totally not having sex with you tonight, so can we just go back to the actually fun conversation we were having?"
This time, I really was shocked.
"Hey, I never said anything about?"
"Sorry," she interrupted. "It's just...let's not ruin things with awkward get-to-know-you shit. So...you're David, David Mauer. I'm Lauren, Lauren Connors. Now be funny again, funny man."
"So is that it, huh? I'm some kind of dancing monkey here to amuse you?" I said, pretending to be hurt.
"Not at all. A dancing monkey would be really, really entertaining," she replied, her tone again lighthearted. "You're just...OK."
"Well I don't want to be funny. I want to know how you knew I was into Charleen," I told her.
Lauren smiled. She had a great smile, broad and toothy without looking silly. Again, she wasn't my "type": her skin was olive, a little Mediterranean, and her lips were thinner than I normally liked. When she smiled, her dark eyes wrinkled at the corners and her cheek bones drew upwards just a bit. She did have the button nose that I like so much, and the long, shiny hair, though hers was dark brown, almost black.
"Probably from the way you eye-fucked her while you were sipping that girly drink," she replied wryly. "I hope your eyes used protection."
"It's a gin and tonic!" I exclaimed, defending myself.
"I know, right? You might as well be wearing a dress," she replied, trying to get my goat again.
"Sorry, we can't all be drinking?is that Windex?" I said, gesturing to her electric blue concoction.
She shrugged her shoulders exaggeratedly and flung her hands out a bit, almost sloshing some of the toxic drink out onto the carpet.
"Hello: girl drink?girl. I can get away with it," she said.
"There's a world of difference between a G