This is probably my last, but I suddenly wanted and need this to be put down into words.
This was December of 1988. I had conned my way into graduating high school a year early and I was finally, after years of reading Sweet Valley High books, an American college student. I was at one of the country's largest public universities and finally, fucking finally, a small fish in a huge pond. Exactly what my large personality wanted. To just be ordinary.
I knew no one at UT before I enrolled there. I have plenty of stories about me and the sororities, but the short version is that I found myself in one, despite all odds. In addition to all of the things young women learn when they find themselves autonomous at college, I was a girl who didn't know jack shit about being an American, much less a Texan. Texas was probably the worst place for someone like me to integrate into US life. I thought I had the foundation to be an American girl. I was wrong. I still am.
So after I conned my way into a great sorority, I was set up regularly with blind dates and had a variety of social setting to meet guys. I was even set up with a guy I had dated in Saudi (long story for another time). I was trying so hard to fake my way into portraying that I got this whole "normal American girl" thing" that I never realized how far behind the curve I was.
So Russ. Here it goes. I met Russ at a sorority-frat party and we hit it the fuck off. We laughed and joked and flirted all all was right in the world. He kind of hinted that he wanted me to come back to his room that night, but I played it safe, cool and casual and prayed he would call me the next day. He did. The next morning. He invited me to his dorm's formal the next night. I went out shopping that morning for a dress to wear, which was form fitting and daring.
I went to that formal, which was in San Antonio. I held his hand as we walked down the Riverwalk, drunk as hell but always genuinely interested in his story. We rode back to Austin with me on his lap, kissing and loving on him. I was definitely into him, and acted on it. Anyone who was watching could see that. When we got back to Austin and the bus dropped me off, he got off the bus and kissed me for a solid hour before he walked the six blocks to his dorm.
He called me the next day, again, early morning, and said that while he had had a date for his frat formal that night, he had just canceled it because he wanted me to be his date. I was flattered, honored and terrified, and not even a little bit sorry for the girl who just got dumped so that I could take her place. I borrowed a dress, that, with the benefit of a couple decades of reflection, was probably the perfect ensemble. I wish I had a picture, but it was emerald green, buttoned up the front, had a collar, and by today's standards, probably evoked a polygamist's dress.
We went to the frat formal, hugging, cooing and loving on each others. I mentioned casually that I was looking forward to watching certain Christmas cartoons, and he laughed, saying that they had all aired. Luckily, he had recorded them, and did I want to go back to his room to watch them? Hell, yes.
The rest has been told here, and I suspect most of this backstory was, too. I had an unpleasant first time, to say the least, but oddly, I wouldn't change a thing. It has been an interesting road to get to where I am now, and at least from the sexual point of view, I am cool like Fonzie. It has taken a while, but that experience no longer defines me sexually.
What brought this all on? I checked into Facebook for the first time in months and saw a friend request. Yes, it was him. Unreal.