Valentine’s Day sucks; especially when you’re single. I had just survived the semi-traumatic loss of my boyfriend and best friend in one night, but I sat unfazed, holding the business card of the fella who had been the only positive highlight of my past week. I considered the fact that I was on the rebound, knowing that he didn’t have a shot in Hell, but I figured; why not have a friendly drink?
His name was Lawrence and we met up the next evening. He was every bit as certifiable and complimentary as I remembered, not to mention handsome, mid-twenties, good job, witty, considerate, and Hispanic. Early on, it became clear he was smitten and the best part was that I didn’t even have to open the ex-file, so he wasn’t shocked when I began stating my case for us to take things slow.
We ended the evening early. I walked him to his car, wished him a good night and pecked him on the cheek…then, on the lips….then, on the lips….and on the lips again, which led to a complete passionate kiss that lasted half an hour.
On the eve of Valentine’s Day, Lawrence invited me to a cocktail party. As we entered, I was instantly welcomed by all of his friends. The evening flowed as smoothly as the drinks. I was interrogated by his cohorts but fended them off by reassuring them that Lawrence and I were just friends. They went on to tell me how much he liked me, which of course, I knew. I gazed across the room at Lawrence and mouthed, “help,” to be silly. He smiled and winked at me. I realized I might be starting to become smitten myself. Or was it just the “Rebound” talking? I excused myself from the group to pour myself another drink. I knew I had to be strong and stick with my plan of keeping it light. At the same moment, Lawrence came up behind me, putting his arms around me and kissed my neck. Oh, fuck it!
An hour later, I was in his bed. The next morning as I awoke, I thought maybe I had made a huge Booty Blunder. But then, he began to stir and climbed on top of me. Ding! Ding! Ding! Round Two! I guess I could always worry later.
About a week or so passed and Lawrence and I, busy with work, hadn’t seen each other. We talked on the phone once or twice.
One night, after work I was sitting on my couch and catching some late night television, when all of a sudden I had nasty itching sensation…down there. When scratching didn’t suffice, I went into the bathroom to grab some lotion. As I went to apply, I noticed something…Something out of the ordinary. There was a reddish, gray dot. I picked at it…Oh, My God!
I grabbed the phone and dialed my best friend, Dan.
“I have crabs,” I whined into the receiver. I was practically in tears. I have never had an STD. in my life. He calmed me down; reassuring me it could have been worse. Very true, but still gross. The next day was spent disinfecting my entire apartment and giving myself a “spa treatment.”
After about a week, my “friends” had vacated. I decided to give Lawrence a call; just to let him know how much I enjoyed our last evening together. He answered and couldn’t wait to see me either. We planned to meet that evening. I mentioned that I needed to talk to him about something important. He became quiet. I’m sure he knew what I was going to say/do. Needless to say, when I arrived at the bar, he was nowhere to be seen… Big Shock.
Not to worry, when I did finally bump into him a few weeks later, I was sure to point out to anyone within earshot the man who had given me the most memorable sexual encounter of my adult life. As Lawrence flaccidly attempted to censure me, Matt walked up, clearly delusional, thinking we were still friends. He leaned in, kissing me on the cheek superficially. Matt’s presence was making my skin crawl. I didn’t allow it to show. I simply turned my cheek and smiled.
Before Matt could walk away, I grabbed his arm.
“Matt,” I chirped. “I want to introduce you to somebody.”
“Lawrence, this is my good friend, Matt” I stated. “I think you two have a lot in common.”
Erik Fact: There’s no need to get crabby. Get even.
