my skirt, tried to recapture
some semblance of dignity, and headed inside the school.
Obviously, I would need to tell all the first graders about seeing my parents have sex.
My Horizontal Life
My Horizontal Life: A Collection of One-Night Stands
My Horizontal Life: A Collection of One-Night Stands
THE BEGINNING OF THE END
MANY PEOPLE FEEL like a one-night stand is something to be ashamed of or embar-
rassed by. I disagree. There are many ways to get to know someone, and my personal favor-
ite is seeing them naked in Happy Baby pose.
I also feel it is important to have sex soon after meeting someone in order to find out if you
have sexual chemistry together. Otherwise, you could wait two to three months after you start
dating someone only to discover that your new boyfriend is bad in bed, or even worse, is into
anal beads and duct tape.
I can remember my first one-night stand like it was yesterday. Well, maybe not the first. Or
the second . . . or the fifth. I'll just begin with what I can remember and not concern myself
with order.
It was a starry summer night at the Jersey shore. Picture violins and a harmonica. Now
picture the harmonica up my ass. I think it's safe to say that the Jersey shore, specifically an
area called Belmar, isn't what pops into mind when thinking of romance.
I was around eighteen at the time. It's hard to say since I started lying about my age as
soon as I got my boobs. My girlfriend Ivory and I had just graduated from high school and de-
cided to celebrate by the water. Ivory and I had met freshman year and had been close ever
since. Her parents came to America from Cuba long before Ivory was born. They had since
tried to prove their loyalty to America with every child they'd had. Her brother's name is Cin-
cinnati and she has a sister named July, presumably after the fourth. Somewhere along the
way, they also converted to Judaism.
We were discovering the Jersey shore for the first time and felt it was our duty as Jersey
girls to really pay our respects to the Garden State. We were tired of sleeping around with the
average Joe, Dick, and Harry. A challenge was in order.
We were in the mood for dancing, so we found a loud, dark bar with music pouring out of
it. I had her pick out the hottest guy in the bar and I fearlessly approached him. It was very
empowering to go up to a babe like him and be received so well. I thought, Wow, I must be
really good-looking. Until I started dancing.
I don't know if you've ever seen a Jewish girl who's been self-diagnosed as tone-deaf cut
a rug on a Jersey shore dance floor before, but it definitely resembles someone whose motor
skills haven't fully developed. In my state of drunkenness, I was fueled by delusions of being
an original cast member of the play Chicago. I decided to do the number where I rub my ass
into my partner's crotch while my arms grab his neck behind me. When in doubt, ladies, this
move will always guarantee you at least a slice of pizza.
I decided on two slices instead of one; I'd burned a number of calories during my Flasb-
dance number and wanted to reassure my guy that I wasn't one of those girls who didn't eat.
We had a great time eating and watching my best friend Ivory make out with her score for the
night. Her guy was a real piece of Jersey trash, and they ended up tearing off in his banana
yellow Camaro. I went back to my guy's house and proceeded to have some of the best sex I
can barely remember.
What I do recall is turning his ceiling fan on “high” (there are two things in this world I can-
not sleep without: a fan and a silk set of eye shades), ripping his clothes off, and looking at
one of the finest bodies that our ecosystem has ever created. The next morning I was walking
with a considerable limp and wasn't able to deduce if this was a result of the dancing or the
sex. After catching a glimpse of my hair in the mirror, I considered scheduling an audition for
the lead in The Lion King.
I dated this beautiful hunk of flesh for the next eight months. His looks overrode his per-
sonality for the first couple of months, but after a while it became harder and harder to ignore.
We would go out to dinner, and the minute he was done eating, he'd put his fork down and
ask for the check. The summerhouse he rented with four other guys had hot water for only the
first ten minutes and then it would become freezing, so he insisted on taking showers before
me, because I was his little “trouper.” This was also someone who wouldn't let me borrow his
toothbrush on an occasion when I
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