My only one night stand took place on my 21st birthday. I was at this dance club a couple of blocks away from where I lived on Garnet St. in Pacific Beach. They had a the perfect DJ for a newly 21 year old and the bartender made delicious blue Hawaiians. Don’t know what a blue Hawaiian is? That’s cool, you’re not missing anything but a hangover. And possibly STDs.
I remember seeing this guy checking me out but the truth is that he may have been checking everyone out. We just made eye contact once or twice. And then enough blue Hawaiians had kicked in and I went up and started a conversation with him. OK, fine, maybe it wasn’t actually verbal communication, it may have been in the form of body language. Mine next to his. And dancing, of course. Because I can dance. In the white-girl-overbite dorky yet sexy fashion.
The guy’s name was Jim. Jim from Boise, Idaho. He was in San Diego on his spring break. He had these sparkly blue eyes, was super tan, and had shoulder length brown wavy hair with sun streaks. And a ridiculously hot body, of course. I took him home, we had lots of sex, then he left. I was strangely proud of myself because I’d often been the clingy type with guys – trying to figure out what was going on with the relationship instead of just going with the flow. Girls like to know what’s going on, that’s just the way it is. But I let go and had sex (safely!) and said goodbye. I was real proud.
Until he called a week later, invited me to Boise, and I hopped on a plane.
I don’t know where I got the money, maybe I used some of my grant money for college, but it seemed like the logical thing to do: visit my one night stand. Anyone will tell you this is a terrible idea that will go nowhere and usually end in heartbreak. Fortunately, I was a bit more realistic. I saw it as an adventure. I even learned how to ride a motorcycle while I was there. I met some cool Boise folks. We went for beautiful hikes. Jim and I had more sex. And then I had an honest conversation with Jim’s best friend who basically told me that Jim was in love with someone else and it was so great of me to let him take his mind off of her. The day I was leaving, Jim showed me pictures of himself when he was younger. Turns out, he didn’t actually have curly hair – he permed it! He wanted to be a model, which is why he went to a tanning salon. I think his eye color might have been from contact lenses.
It was a fun adventure but I was also brought back to a harsh reality. We are all vulnerable people, distracting ourselves while our heart heals.
(Total sidenote for my son: Your Dad and I were in some in-between phase at that point, btw. I wasn’t cheating on him. For the record. I mean, one time we were in a vague in-between phase like I couldn’t quite tell if we’d actually broken up again or if we were just really really mad at each other. We did the off and on, ‘we’re on a break’ dance a lot. There was this guy that we’d been hanging out with. He was the brother of this girl Andie that everyone adored because she was so pretty and intelligent and wrote poetry (barf.) Anyhow, we were drunk and we made out. Or had sex. Honestly, I can’t remember the details but I DO remember someone telling your Dad and he wasn’t happy. He wasn’t pissed. I mean, I’m guessing here because you know how well he communicates but I remember thinking I fucked up pretty badly. But with Jim, I was in the clear, we were broken up for real.)