watching expired appliances align

(The following anecdote is a bit more personal than the things I normally write. I’m not saying it’s a salacious tale, but I do use the phase "dry humping." Consider yourself warned.)

The one good story I have about weird make-out sessions is one I usually forget about until someone brings it up. We'll be out at a bar and somebody will say something about crazy making out. Or strange making out circumstances. Or going to the beach or whatever. And then someone will ask me to tell the new person at the table or the bar about "bathing suit girl."

When she comes up, I roll my eyes and smile. I got myself into an odd situation with bathing suit girl. A situation I didn't know how to handle (okay, okay, that's not too odd, but still!).

Sometime back in 1999, while my roommate and his then-girlfriend were on vacation, I called the girlfriend's roommate and asked her to join me at the bar. She agreed and after two or three drinks the flirting got a little heavier. Somehow Feng Shui came up. I wanted to make out, so I just went with the punches. I’ll admit to a curiosity about Feng Shui, but I wasn't "into it, into it." After another drink or two we walked back to my place. After having a glass of water, I should've kissed her. But I didn't. I was awkward and nervous.

And then I brought up the Feng Shui again. And I insisted we go to her apartment so that I could see how she was organizing her room based on the principles of Feng Shui. (see, I'm totally neurotic and need to be hit over the head with the info that the woman I'm talking to likes me)

So, we call a car service and go over to her place. I sit on her bed. She pulls out a Feng Shui (do I have to keep typing this phrase over and over? It's so 1997) book. I flip through a few pages and I finally kiss her. It's one of those dry, we've had too much to drink kisses. I don't stop. There's some more making out. Nothing too heavy. The book must’ve crashed to the ground, though.

The making out and the kissing and the dry humping go on for another thirty minutes or so. And the dry humping is really picking up. And she's really into it. Too into it. That was pretty weird. I'm all for the fun of dry humping, but it shouldn't get out of control like crazy sex gets out of control, you know? Anyway after a few more liplocks, I nervously get up the courage to stop pawing her breasts over her clothes. I'm anxious to feel the warmth of her skin. And my excitement is going to diminish if I have to keep grinding against her pants. Yikes, that whole experience still brings memories of pain.

Anyway, I manage to untuck her shirt and, as I'm on top of her, I let my right hand feel her back...and my hand isn't coming into contact with her skin. There was probably a pause in my kissing. I don’t think she noticed, as she didn’t stop to explain anything. My hand continued to explore her lower back (not her ass, I swear – her lower back, for real) and it’s this smooth texture that I don’t know how to describe. My slightly inebriated brain certainly didn’t know how to process what I was feeling. The kissing and the dry humping continued. I tried to play it cool. I tried to act like I expect this thing to happen all the time.

And then I felt the back of her bra. What the hell kind of undershirt did she have on here? Wait. Maybe I didn’t feel her bra. Fuck. I don’t remember. Anyway, my hand did reach toward her ass – and that same slidey-like texture was still there. I wondered if she was wearing some kind of corset? She wasn’t overweight! She didn’t need a corset. We just went out for drinks – what was she doing wearing a corset? Was this some sort of "slimming" undergarment she’d ordered from the television late one night? And now that I think about, she was wearing a bra – THAT was the weirdest thing. I just can’t remember it if was under this odd feeling garment or on top of it.

Finally my curiosity got the best of me. After ten minutes I had to stop the kissing and just ask what she was wearing! And she was wearing a bathing suit. I was stunned. Why the hell was she wearing a bathing suit? It made no sense at all. None. Then she explained that she didn’t have any clean underwear that morning. And that sometimes, growing up in Hawaii when she didn’t have any clean underwear, she’d just wear a bathing suit. My mind was officially blown, especially when she explained that she’d done laundry that afternoon. We made out some more. She didn’t offer to remove her one piece bathing suit. I did mention it was a one piece, didn’t I?

When you’re making out, there is no sexy way to get a woman out of a one piece bathing suit. Maybe there is. I wasn’t on the swim team in high school so I don’t really know. If anyone has any hints, keep them to yourself. There’s no need to share those hints. If I ever end up unexpectedly making out with a woman who is wearing a one piece beneath her street clothes I will totally lose it and be in no state to continue with the making out.

I spent the night at her place. I’m sure there was more dry humping. All of this took place on a low-to-the-ground futon. She got up the next morning, changed out the bathing suit (finally!) – and went jogging! I hung around sleeping and we went to see "Go" that afternoon. I don’t think I showered. Oh, and the frustration – because, of course, there was no sober making out the next morning. My god, I was sore. To this day I cannot explain why I was still hanging out with her that Sunday afternoon. I guess I really wanted to see the movie. She offered to make me soup for dinner. I guess she felt bad that popcorn was the only thing I'd eaten all day. But soup? That made no sense. Actually, the idea of having anyone make food for me makes me uncomfortable. Her suggestion of spending even more time hanging out was the last straw. That was too weird. I went home after the movie and never made out with her again.

A few months later she called me from San Francisco. A friend of hers was thinking of opening a movie theatre in Hawaii and wanted some advice. I tried to share my very limited knowledge, while writing a note to my roommate saying I was on the phone with "bathing suit girl." If that theater ever opened, I hope it was designed following principles of Feng Shui.