So, who wants to hear a funny story?
Last night I was having sex with my girlfriend…haha, like I have a girlfriend!
No, but really, last night I was having sex with this sexy young thing (a 30-year-old Cabrillo student with a shaved head) and right in the middle of it (so, one minute in), she starts screaming: “Oh my god! Not you, Roger!”
Clearly, my name is not Roger, or else I would have been somewhat okay with that (ignoring the fact that she said “Not you”). What bothered me more, though, than the fact that apparently she had mistaken me for some former boyfriend as she apparently had an acid flashback while apparently NOT enjoying the awesome sex (if you’re a virgin freshman in high school) I was gifting to her (seriously, the condom felt like goddamn gift wrap), was that I realized she had somehow interpreted the Jolly Roger tattoo on my shoulder as her old boyfriend. So, realizing that I was copulating with one the stupidest (or is that hottest?) girls I had ever hooked up with at a party (okay, a five person tailgate kegger by Seacliff beach), I immediately (meaning, as slowly as possible, right before popping the cork on my champagne) withdrew myself and shouted “Arr, there she blows, matey,” to which she replied “Swab my deck!”
That’s the last time I party in Aptos.
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