02 November 2010

Innuendo and Inference

It was 1993. I think. I had decided to chuck any remains of responsibility out the window and drove from Los Angeles to Colorado for the summer. After two days of driving, I stopped in Grand Junction to stay with a college friend, her fiancé and her family. They were getting married later that month, and all of our college friends were making the trip out to watch it happen.

After a couple days with them, I continued on to Denver, where I stayed for the better part of the summer. Another college friend of mine had just graduated, and had moved to a suburb of Denver in anticipation of attending graduate school in Boulder. She had kindly extended an invitation to "come visit and stay as long as you like!" Sucker. I said, "Great! I'll be right there!"

I fully embraced the role of Slacker Roommate. No job, nothing but time on my hands. Remember those days? No? Liar. Then again, if you don't remember, maybe you were doing it right.

from my home base, I went on little mini-road trips to Boulder, Estes Park (the Continental Divide!) and a town with a name that made it impossible to avoid: Loveland. I went horseback riding and hiking, and walked around aimlessly. I got a tattoo. My slackerhood was complete.

A couple weeks into my Denver residency, another college friend flew in and the three of us drove down to Grand Junction for the wedding. What fun - so many of the people that I loved to party with were all in one place! And for once, we had an actual reason to celebrate! The reception was effortlessly joyous and loud. My best friend - and source of my unrequited love - was at my side most of the day. After the reception, we all apparently decided that there was more drinking to be had, so we headed to a restaurant to take care of that.

That night, alcohol and a wedding high gave me the inhibition necessary to profess my love for my best friend. I had asked him to come outside to talk to me. I told him I loved him. He said, "No, you don't." I said, "Yes, I do." Ad nauseum. Cue our drunken friends spilling out of the restaurant, yelling "There you guys are! We thought you bailed on us!" End of yet another awkward and totally mortifying moment in Eva's life.

My best friend disappeared, probably running to hide in his hotel room (pussy). The rest of us walked back to the hotel in various states of inebriation. I found myself walking alongside Tim.

Tim is the brown-hair-turned-blond-from-the-sun-and-saltwater surfer guy that you think about when you run through California stereotypes in your head. Tall, tan, crinkly smile, shoulder-length hair. In a word: Yum. Am I right, ladies? And oh such good medicine for a girl who just got her heart stomped on and kicked across the road.

We end up giving each other massages on my bed in the hotel room, with Jen passed out on her bed on the other side of the room. Now, we all know what happens when we start giving massages while drunk, right? That's right - we make out. Which is what we did. And that's all we did, because you know why? Because JEN WAS SLEEPING IN THE BED ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM.

All of a sudden, Tim says, "Let's go for a drive." I have my car, so off we go. I take him up to National Monument, which is where I'd done some solo hiking while I was in Grand Junction at the beginning of my trip. Yes, it was pitch black at that time of night, and therefore nary a view in sight, but let's be honest here. A view was not what we were after.

I pulled the car over in what looked like a secluded enough spot and we picked across the boulders to a nice large flat one. Being the Perfect Man, Tim had brought the comforter from the hotel bed and a bucket of ice. We laid down and gazed at the blanket of stars above us. And then I forgot all about my best friend for the rest of the night.

Thank you, Tim. For making what could have been a very shitty night of self-pity into a night of pure youthful exuberance.

I will leave it to my readers' imaginations to decide what the bucket of ice was for.

1 comment:

Employee No. 3699 said...

Rock hard sex!
Ya know, on that boulder and all.