75 Part 1

75 used to be an important number. Somehow, 75 had implicit value in its greatness, in its scale, and being associated with 75 made me feel special. I mean shit, how many others are there out there that had cleared an easy 75 prior to clearing 30? There was this odd attachment to 75… I am a child of the 70’s…

So one of the cool things… from the perspective of the overtly confident and discretely insecure… was that I “could name all 75”… so that means of course I’m better than you… not a dickhead like you… just ask that last bitch… you know, the one who’s name you don’t remember.

But ultimately, it was more about the journey, the stories, the learning… nah, who am I kidding?! That’s just what I tell myself to feel better… actually… more accurately… that’s what I tell other people so they feel better about me… not to say that the journey and the stories weren’t a huge part of it, its just that, well, I don’t wanna admit how much value I assigned to myself… just because of the 75.

You see, I think I remember the stories now more than I remember the 75. Shit, I probably really only remember like 25… at least since I shredded that fucking list… jeez… wouldn’t want to get caught with that… then I’d REALLY look like a tool.

In the beginning…

1 was alright, at least I learned a few things… I mean, when your 15, 1 can teach you a lot. 1 happened to be best friends with, hmmm, I guess she was something like 25… but anyway… I really wished she had been 1, well, at least at the time… now I know she really didn’t even deserve to be 25, cuz shit, she really was only good for her lip service. Like an internet service provider. Figure that one out.
Of course, thats not really fair to 25, I loved her pretty deeply, I guess I'm still just a little bitter about how it all went down. But we'll get to the story of that relationship later, including my role in promoting its demise.

Anyway, back to 1…

So here I was, 15, and living in a tent. Yup, living in a tent. Partially of my own desire… I can admit that, although, what 15 wouldn’t want to live in a tent by a pond? I was weird like that. I guess the stranger part about all that was that I was living in a tent by a pond on my own property, well, my parents… ok, my dad’s… no, wait… my adopted father… my brother’s dad… my mom’s second (of four)… we’ll get to that later… when we start talking about 60 through 70.

Fuck, side-tracked again.

15. Living in a tent. By a pond. Eating bullfrogs. I would actually go out on this raft with a bb gun at night and flashlight in my mouth and shoot bullfrogs. Then I’d roast them over a campfire and eat them. I did this for weeks on end. God I love rednecks. I killed and ate fish too, it's good to have a little variety in one's diet, you know.
So… 25 and 1 would sneak out at night and come visit me in the tent, by the pond, on the property. That’s actually how I met 1.

People do weird shit when they're 15, at least I did. This one time, I scored a condom... I actually think I scored it from my dad's end table... not sure what I needed it for since I was still at 0 but anyway, I took it. Then, out there in that tent by the pond (alone) I tried it out... had to see how these damn things work... be prepared... and god knows I had to do the educating... since my whacko jesus freak of a mother made me sit outside by the door of health class during sex ed in high school... yah, THAT helped out the social life... really slowed down my deviant behavior too... speaking of which, lets get back to the 75... so I try this thing out... and did a good job of filling it up too... well, at least the reservior tip. Of course, I've got jesus freak parents, and I'm living in a tent by a pond so now I gotta think of somewhere to put this damn thing... in all of its leaky glory... not sure why I didn't just dig a hole out there by that pond and bury it... but I didn't... I decided to roll it back up instead, and stuff it back in its wrapper and then subsequently back into my wallet... for later disposal. At school?

Of course as an experimental teen's luck would have it... 25 and 1 went rummaging through my tent that night and found my wallet... and what was in it... they never really confronted me about it... but I knew they had found it... you could tell from the akward "yuck I shouldn't have done that" way that 25 looked at me. That's the reason I think that 25 never really believed that 1 was actually 1. Oh well, better that she believe that I was out there gettin laid than to know I was really just rubbin one out into a condom and stickin it my wallet.

Then one night, actually the last night… in the tent… by the pond… on the property, 1 came to visit without 25. First time I ever learned how quick that internet service provider could be (of course this was 1 doing the download, not 25. That was something like 24 later.)

Lasted all of like 20 seconds… ok so maybe that’s exaggerating… but who really gives a shit, we all exaggerate. Yes, all of us.

Next day, I left and moved away for the summer. Didn’t even really say good bye to 1.

Mind you, I was still at 0 at this point. Internet downloads don’t count. Figure that one out yet?

That summer, I hung out with my churchy family. Cuz I… was a churchy boy. Started going to churchy things, and playing with churchy toys. Whoever said you can’t find a few good sluts at church?

That’s when I met 4 and 5. Ended up marrying 4… mainly cuz 5 took so long to put out… emotionally speaking of course.

So I’m up there meeting 4 and 5, and their friend, she doesn’t have a number but if you want, you can think of her as ½. Since I was still at 0. And a good dry hump’s gotta count for something.

I met 4 and 5 at church youth group and they subsequently introduced me to ½ on the youth group water ski trip. I went on the trip to help drive my uncle’s ski boat and teach people how to ski… ok, I went on the trip to hang with 4 and 5 and show off what an awesome water skier I was and try and get some action. We all got super sunburned that weekend. Had fun. Went home.

I called ½, 4 and 5 after the trip (separately) and ended up hangin with each of them, had a good make out session with 4 at my grandpa’s when she drove up with her 18 month old niece she was babysitting. Guys, if you’re ever looking for an “in” with a 16 (whether or not she ends up being your 4… or your wife for that matter)… teach her 18 month old niece to say “bitch”… for some reason teenagers find that funny… the next day, I went creek walking with 5, ½, and ½’s brother… got “lost” up the creek with 5 and had a good little kiss and feel behind a boulder, that, and the incessant and not so discrete rubbing of the equipment through the swim suits while “swimming” together in the deeper pools of water… day after that, I ended up going to a birthday party with ½ as her “date”.

That’s when I got the dry hump… actually it wasn’t even dry… it was a pool party and we ended up in the bathroom at this house together for a good make out session and wet swimsuit rubbin. Good times. Somehow or another, 5 called ½ at the party… which is weird because this was all before the advent of the cell phone leash system. Either way, 5 found out that I was there.

Following week I’m at church again, first the main service, then the “bible study” for adults and “youth group” for kids… youth group was at some building across the street from the church… so I head out for some good kumbaya with the other tweenies... never made it though... 4, 5 and ½ accosted me at the intersection and redirected me to the closed library next door… things weren’t lookin too good at this point.

Instead of the pounding that I probably deserved, they really just yelled and scowled for a bit and then told me I had to choose one of them… really? I chose 5… she did have the biggest titties, after all. That counts for something… even makes you overlook that funny ear that pokes out a little too much. She was such a smartass too. Gotta love that. Sarcastic bitch.