What would Jesus do?

Some years ago, when I was younger and more carefree, I decided to try a "one-night-stand". This, to me, means meet someone, trounce through the tulips, and disengage as quickly as possible. I've not been exactly "scant" on partners - though once when a new gynecologist was interviewing me and asked me if "a lot" meant more than 100 I was shocked - I'd have to be a 70-yr-old hippy chick to acheive such a shocking statistic, or perhaps just really friggin' crazy.

I'm a good, solid, American college-educated liberal woman and we tend to appreciate a bit of "belt-notching". - some experimentation - however I've never been the type to just find someone just sexy (but not interesting or lovable,) bed them that night, and flippantly say goodbye. (This is the impression I might have given with "Love is a bitch on a grass mat" however it is a mistaken impression.) But in this case, I was captivated by an empty bubble disguised in the precept of destiny. Furthermore, I had recently broken off my engagement, returned the ring to one very pissed-off individual, and was in need of a "rebound". (Does that make any sense? Probrably not.)

Nathalie's Series of Big Mistakes with Pedrito

There was a young man from the Dominican Republic whom I had danced with several times at salsa clubs. I'll call him Pedro. When we danced, we never talked. I knew nothing about him, but dancing is quite enjoyable that way. It makes it very mysterious.

This guy was about 22, and on the wholesome side of sexy. Basically, I felt that I was in safe territory with him, and in control of any potential situations. Hence, I could proceed when....As I was boarding a plane to L.A. to pack up my stuff and leave, I passed by him and we smiled. It had to be - Destiny! I promptly invited him to sit in the free seat next to me. It was a less than interesting conversation, but I did not heed my instincts - I was too busy entertaining myself thinking about the novelty of a seduction coming about under such random circumstances. I had formed my plans as soon as I saw him sitting there and I was going to make him fit into it no matter what. Typical of an Aries person. Big Mistake.

Lets just skip the details and zero in on the facts: That night, Jay was planning to stay at my apartment. I know that seems precipitous, but due to our geographical/financial situation, he was going to be there overnight or not be there at all, so I chose overnight.

At the first knock, I opened the door with much anticipation and was in a state of shock to find him without the clean-cut little oxford shirts he usually wore, but instead with an over-sized t-shirt reading JESUS SAVES.

I just wanted to shut the door, but I was stuck, I was stuck and didn't know how to get out of it, so I tried to look on the bright-side, and think, "this is going to be culturally educative." Predominating though was that "sinking feeling".

We sat on my bed and talked, since I had sold most of my furniture. For some reason, I had a scented candle lit. I never light candles - maybe I was trying to use it up before I left L.A. Also, all of my electricity was coming from a powercord draped across the gangway from my friend Steve's apartment to mine, since my power had been shut-off. And, stuff was scattered all over the place, partially packed.

Jay and I sat on the bed and had a conversation. We probrably were supposed to be doing other things, but the Evangelical t-shirt was repelling me - it might as well have read BIG IDIOT. I just couldn't look him in the eye.

I asked him about his family, and his life in the Dominican Republic. Bad Idea. He told me that his father had died. I asked how. Bad Idea. He had died of gangrene.

Then Jay began to show me, using my own leg as a model, how it crept up until it was too late. And then suddenly, he moved quickly and bumped the candle, and wax grotesquely splattered all over my black jersey sheets. I was stricken; I was baffled. But I was stuck.

How could I get him out of my apartment, out of my twin bed? It was too late - we were too isolated. In retrospect, I suppose I could have pretended to get sick or something - it wasn't like he was the agressive type - but instead I chose to get his t-shirt off of him to try and forget about what it said and who he was. I was just still going to try to make the experience fit into the idea I had formed on the plane. What can I say. It was a low-point in my life. It was unreasonable and out-of-control. I was making a notch in my belt, just cause I could, and the notch meant nothing. The notch was just an empty space.

And as you can imagine, the notching didn't go too well. I'll spare you the gruesome details.
Just think:

pleasure...10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1...profound sense of the tragic

Experience rates: 1

***

Sometimes, things are best taken at face-value.
Sometimes, it is best if you don't know anything about someone.
This was the case with Pedro. And there has not been another Pedro.