Back when I lived in Sacramento I worked on the same block as all the gay bars, so you can imagine how many happy hours turned into all night drunken disasters. It also didn’t help that I worked with a bunch of alcoholic pushers. My co-workers and I frequently went to the bars after work (or during work) for drinks and fun. I remember this one night when my co-workers and I had just left the bars after happy hour and went our separate ways while heading home. I got to my car and decided that I could use one more drink. Well one more drink ended up being like 6 more drinks.
Cut to me at the bar still around 1 in the morning, and flirting with all the cute Mexican boys. Somehow I must have found a little Mexican who was just as drunk as me, and we made our way outside to go to his car for some naked fun. While walking down the street he saw some of his friends walking toward us and he grabbed my hand and forced me in between a wall and a dumpster. Apparently he didn’t want to be found. The things a guy will do to get off!
While hiding by the dumpster we couldn’t wait any longer and just started going at it. I got on my knees and did my job, and then he did the same. Afterward I walked him to his car, and said bye. Still don’t know who he was or what his name was. Oh well. Then I started walking to my car. I had to walk by all the gay bars to get to my car, and all the folks out in front of the bars seemed to be having a good time. Lots of laughing, and stuff, but then I realized that they were laughing at me. I looked down at myself and my zipper was down, and my knees were hella dirty and slimy looking. Who knows what was on the ground around that dumpster. I must have looked like a tragic mess! I felt my face get warm with embarrassment, but then I thought “fuck it”. I just looked at those bitches and said… “Girl… sometimes you gotta get down and dirty”, and I just kept walking.
And that my friends… is one of my greatest moments.
Back in 1990, when I was in the 6th grade my friend David and I would always play with my brother’s stuff when he was working. I remember one Saturday morning when we took his skateboard, and we would ride it around like it was a sled. We would start at the top of the drive way, and then roll down to the sidewalk to see who could go farther just by the momentum we gained going downhill.
Later on that day we started laying face down on the skateboard, and we would pretend we were superman. Unfortunately we were not going very far when lying down, and we wanted to go faster. That’s when I got an idea! I told David to go get his bike because I wanted to try something. David had pegs on his bike… Pegs are these little metal rods you screw on to the bolts of the rear tire of your bike that would allow another person to stand on your bike while you pedaled. They were really cool, and I don’t really see people using them anymore. Anyways I had the idea that if I lay down on the skateboard, stomach down, and held on to the pegs of David’s bike he could pull me down the street. Eventually when he was going fast enough I could let go and fly like superman down the street. I’m such a genius right?
There was one problem with my plan though… the back tire on the bike. Since I was holding on to the pegs of the back bike tire, my face was like right up on the back tire. I had to really focus on not letting the back tire of the bike rub my face off.
So we headed down the street, and I was being very careful not to let the back tire rub against my face. Maybe I was concentrating on that a little too much because the next thing I know my right thumb gets caught between in the back gear of the bike and the chain. My thumb goes almost completely around the gear before part of it rips off and I go flying off my skateboard into some bushes. I got up, and saw all the blood pouring out of my thumb, and I go running as fast as I can back to my house leaving a trail of blood on the sidewalk.
My mom ended up taking me to one of those urgent care places which was down the street from our house. Once the doctor cleaned up the wound I could see part of my thumb bone, and I passed out. Since we couldn’t find the piece of meat that ripped off my thumb, we just had to wait for the skin to grow over the area. It was a long painful couple of months waiting for it to completely heal. Now one thumb is slightly flat on top and smaller than the other. Boo!
In the end I still think it was a good idea… I just wish I would have thought about the gears of the bike, but hey… at least I didn’t rub off my face with the back tire right?
And that my friends… is one of my greatest moments.
I used to borrow my parents car all the time back in the day because I never had enough money to get my own. My parents didn’t really want me to leave the greater Sacramento area with the car though. I guess they thought that anything outside of Sacramento was more dangerous of something… who knows. Obviously that didn’t stop me from going anywhere I wanted. I went to Tahoe, Santa Cruz, Napa, and of course San Francisco all the time.
One particular day my friend Vanessa and I decided we wanted to go to San Francisco to go shopping on Haight Street, and to get lunch. By the way… this was before I realized how much I hated Haight Street. Anyways, it took us about 90 minutes to get there, and after about another 15 minutes we finally found parking next to the panhandle. We got about a block away from where we parked when my mom called.
She always informs that it is her on the phone even though I obviously recognized the phone number.
What!? First of all… who leaves their false teeth in a car? Secondly, I’m gonna have to lie my ass off… if she knew I was in San Francisco I wouldn’t be able to use the car for a while.
Fucking hell! I explained the situation to Vanessa, and we headed back to the car and started driving back to Sacramento. It took us like 80 minutes to get back, but we successfully delivered the false teeth to my dad.
Talk about ruining the day. Nope not for us… we got back in the car, and headed right back to San Francisco for shopping and dinner! I kinda miss days like that.
And that my friends… is one of my greatest moments.
In early 2001, shortly after my ex-boyfriend Gabe left me, I did a lot of drinking at the bars. Surprisingly I wasn’t much of a whore considering how often I was wasted, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t make the mistake of bringing someone back to my house sometimes. For example this guy named Tomas. He was cute and Mexican, so hello… why wouldn’t I want it?
We got back to my place and jumped on the bed to make out. After a good 5 minutes of that we finally got around to taking each others clothes off. While I was pulling down his pants I noticed that his legs had lots of scabs on them.
So we continued to fool around although I tried my best not to touch his legs because it was secretly freaking me out. After a few more minutes he started sniffing a lot like he had a cold. He finally asked me if I had any tissue, and I gave him some. We tried to continue what we were doing (which was only foreplay still), and he kept sniffing, so we’d have to stop so he could blow his nose again.
And just then it happened! He sneezed right in my face. I felt all the wet air blowing right on my face. Now I don’t know if he did it on purpose or not, but at the time I was convinced he had done it on purpose.
I threw him off my bed, grabbed his pants and threw them at his face, and told him:
This bitch threw his clothes on and ran out of my house fast as if the place was burning down. I mean I did get kind of crazy on him, but this time I think it was deserved. I guess the odd thing to come out of this was that we kind of became friends for a while… really caddy bitchy friends, but that’s the way I like it.
And that my friends… is one of my greatest moments.