So there I was, at this stupid college party, but what ever, ya know? It's free beer, even though it was only stupid Budweiser, it was free. So, back to the story, right?
So there I am, sitting on the couch. My 'date' was some supposed big m an on campus, who never actually showed up. This couple, who are completely oblivious to me, obviously, come over and start going at it right beside me.
So, I get up.
It's around this time, when I'm walking around in a rather bored, drunk state with a screwdriver in one hand, I hear this really annoying voice.
"Hey there Pretty Gothy Lady-guy," and turn to see some blond with two chicks hanging off either arm. I raise an eyebrow and obviously I'm the only one who doesn't get his sex appeal. I mean I saw the guy, who's name is apparently "Cal"and immediately thought, 'Dear God, shoot me now.'
Well, then I hear a rougher voice, kinda gruff and such, "Hey Cal, shut up," and saw some jock looking guy, two beers in hand and drunk off his ass fall through Cal and his little harem.
"Hey Best Buddy Rocko," the blond says, to which Rocko grunted and looked up at me from the floor.
"I yackked on your boots, wanna do it?" he groaned and I shook my head.
"I think you need some fresh air..." I reached down and helped him up, smelling the stench of beer and puke on his breath.
"This mean we're gonna have sex?" the blatant fool asked.
"Uh, no." Came my answer.
We stumbled out of the frat house, and I made sure Rocko didn't knock himself unconscious on the bricks of the house or steps by pushing him rather sadistically onto the grass. He groaned and I laughed, sitting next to him.
"So, let's you and me do it," the drunk spewed. For a second I was rather amazed at how clearly his mind was focussed on that one thing. Of course, that amazement faded when I remembered that his focus was my virginity.
"No."
"Well at least you haven't crushed my balls yet," he stammered, rolling onto his side to vomit once more.
"Don't tempt me..." I murmured, watching him out of the corner of my eye.
I watched him for a while. I think he had fallen asleep. I shrugged and let him sleep, dragging him a few feet away from the pile of puke he left on the poor frat's lawn. Wide shoulders, I thought to myself. I like wide shoulders. And then, once again, I remembered what the focus of Rocko's mind was: Sex. Nothing but sex, and apparently cheezies and beer, or at least that's what the contents of his stomach laid out on the grass would have me believe.
It was getting late, and I would have to be at work soon, where I work, well that'll be another story. Regretfully, I slipped my hand into his back pocket, and took out the drunk man's wallet. I couldn't find any student ID so I just sent him over to State U. when the cab came.
That's where most of the students came from. Before that, though, I slipped one of the night club cards out of his wallet, and wrote: Andrea 841-555-1103, my number and name. I'm not sure why I did that, perhaps drunkenness is contagious. Or is it stupidity? Either way, I could have caught it from the groaning, moaning, vomiting man beside me at the time.
I sent him away in a cab then walked back to my own dorm, as I now had no more money for a cab. It was a nice night, though, so it wasn't aborally painful. As for what happened to the drunk guy, I have no clue. But I assume he got where ever fine, since that was not the last time I saw him.
(Commercial Break)
Go to State University. And have sex!
(End Commercial Break)
So I'm at work. And just so you are all prepared, I work at a strip club. Which, if any of you know Rocko better than I did, which you probably all do at this point, would be the first place to find him.
I didn't even know he was there until I came off stage. As far as I knew, the drunks weren't allowed in, but Rocko was a rather violent, aggressive drunk, and he over powered Sam, our lesbian body guard, which is funny cause Sam looks more masculine than Arnold Schwart-a-whatever.
"'ey, anyone of you fine sweet asses Andrea?" he asked.
'Oh shit,' I thought to myself. My stupid roommate had told him where I worked in an attempt of turning him off of me, unfortunately for me it turned him on. Damn vindictive bitch! I turned, trying to slip away, before one of the other girls grabbed my arm and thrust me at him.
"You Andrea?" he asked looking down at me. He was about two inches taller than me, I guess, and I was wearing flat shoes, as I hated the heels and they came off the minute the curtain was down.
"Uh... yeah," I said, pulling away from him and taking someone's shirt off a table. It wasn't mine, it probably belonged to one of the guys who works up front in the bar, as it was huge. "What do you want?"
"Just wonderin' cause yer name was in my wallet," and here it came... "Wanna do it?"
"Uh, no." My constant and only answer to his constant and only question.
"But yer a stripper, aren't they all easy?" he asked. The boy had the IQ of a melon.
"I do it for the money..."
"I'll pay you." Slap. "You slapped me!"
"No shit, dumb ass," I stared at him and went back into the changing area to get redressed. When I came out, he was still there.
"I liked it."
Cringe.
"You're a goth chick, hot."
Cringe.
"Wanna have sex?"
Cringe.
I finally stopped and looked at him, square in the eye. "Okay, look. I don't want to have sex with you, and the only reason I gave you my number was to make sure you didn't die of alcohol poisoning, alright?" I shouted at him, slinging my purse over my shoulder. "So get it through your head that I don't want to have sex with you. Not now. Not in five minutes. Not in five hours. Not in five days. Not ever!" I screamed at him and stormed past
In retrospect, I really didn't want to blow up at him, I was just a little frustrated, and well, being pestered by a pervert bent on one thing and one thing only wasn't exactly the nicest way to end the night. Oh well, what was done was done, but then again, apparently what was done wasn't over. Not yet.
(Commercial Break)
This story is brought to you by sex.
(End Commercial Break)
Well, alright. I didn't witness any of this happen, but this guy, who was apparently Rocko's friend, I think his name is Nitz, I know he was Room Guy once. But yeah, this what he told me went down.
So Rocko walks into Cal, the apparent idiot blond from the party, and Nitz's room, and this guy Gimpy is in some sort of web conference, web cam thing with them. But oh well, that's not important. So I'm just gonna post the e-mail I got from Nitz about the whole thing.
Okay, Andy, here's what went down:
Rocko: What the Hell is wrong with me?
Me: What isn't wrong with you?
Rocko: Shut up.
Cal: Bestest Buddy Rocko guy, maybe you need to be nicer to the ladies, guy.
Rocko: Shut up. *hurls a beer bottle at Cal."
Gimpy: Maybe you should realize girls are the enemy.
Rocko: But she's hot. And a stripper. And Hot!
Me: Maybe she just wants to be friends, Rocko. Ever think of that?
Gimpy: Rocko? Think?
Rocko: Shut up. Friends? But she gives me her number. And she doesn't want to have sex.
Gimpy: See, girls are the enemy. They're trying to get you, Rocko!
Cal: Ladies are nice, guy. You just gotta be nice to them, guy.
Rocko: Shut up.
Me: Now wait, I think Cal might have a point. Why don't you try being interested in her as a friend, rather than just blatantly asking her for sex.
Rocko: That'll never work.
Me: It works for Cal.
Cal: *having phone sex with some woman he doesn't know*
All: ...
- Nitz
So now I'm completely confused. I mean, Rocko wants to have sex. That appears to be his fixation. And he's macho... And doesn't share things, and he goes to his friends? I'm lost.
(Commercial Break)
Have sex!
(End Commercial Break)
I'm down in the lounge, and this is where Nitz approaches me.
"Did you get the e-mail I sent you?" he asked, taking a spot beside me.
"Yeah... So?" I didn't even bother looking up from my book. Sylvia Plath and her Bell Jar were much more important to me at that time.
"Rocko likes you."
"Rocko likes sex," I corrected, replacing the book mark to mark my page. "Sex and beer. I don't like sex, in fact, I would never know, I've never had it. But I know I don't like beer, which destroys fifty percent of any common ground we could have."
"He likes strippers. You're a stripper," Nitz offered. I narrowed my eyes and shot him a rather unamused glare.
"Shut up," I warned.
This chick named Jesse came over not soon after Nitz arrived. "Hey, you're that freaky goth chick," she said.
"No, I'm one of those happy, slutty cheer kitten types," I said in a sarcastic tone as I eyed her. "You're that sarcastic cool girl who hangs around with the dorks."
"Right-o. Name's Jesse."
"Andrea."
"Cool. So..."
"Rocko wants to hook up with Andrea here," Nitz interjected to which he got a cruel glare.
"Rocko wants to hook up with my lower torso," I corrected him once more.
Jesse laughed. "Wow, maybe it's -you- who should get the sarcastic title," she said with a smirk, leaning against the table.
"I try."
"It shows."
"Thanks."
"Excuse me," Nitz said, trying to regain our attention.
"You're excused," we said in tandem. We both laughed, it was rather funny, at least we saw it that way. I don't think Nitz appreciated it that much. He sighed and then left.
"So Rocko has his pervert sights on you," Jesse said slipping into Nitz's vacated seat. I shrugged and put my book away.
"It would appear so," I pushed myself up in the chair, turning and tucking one of my legs beneath me. "Is he really as creepy as he comes off as?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, a wry smirk on my lips.
"No. He's more so." We both had a good laugh at Rocko's expense. "But at least you wouldn't have to worry about him cheating on you."
"Point," I conceded with a smile. I wasn't that interested in him. He seemed 'alright', but just alright. There wasn't anything special about him, but at least he was better than the fuck-you guy, and that dumb kid, Cal. "Too bad he's only interested in sex."
"True... He doesn't seem the relationship type to me," she said.
"What gave you that hint? Sometimes I think he has turrets or something. Always yelling stupid shit like "Take off your shirt!" and stuff..."
"He's a guy."
"True."
"Give him a break. Why not try a date with him, and if it doesn't work, then drop him," she offered.
I considered this offer. In five minutes he had asked me to have sex six times. One night is a lot of five minutes. "Maybe..."
"Hey it's worth a shot, right? Could always do worse."
"How so?"
"One word: Gimpy."
We both laughed quite heartily.
(Commercial Break)
Are you having sex yet?
(End Commercial Break)
A lounge party had started up later that night, so I figured I might as well show up, I only worked Saturdays and Sundays, and today was a Thursday, but it was reading week so there were no classes. I sat in a chair in the corner and contented myself to nursing my rum and coke, when a sober Rocko came up to me.
"Hey, Andrea?" he asked, with a Silvester Stallone kinda voice. He seemed to have that sort of voice, at least when he wasn't vomiting. "Can I sit?"
"I don't know, are you able to with your head that far up your ass?" I said swiftly, keeping my eyes off him. I don't know why I felt this contempt for him, but I did. Perhaps it was just the God of the Universe attitude that I met so much at the club, I just didn't want to encounter it at all when I was at school too.
"Yeah so, I know I've been a jerk..." I cut him off.
"Yeah, you have."
"But let me finish!" He sounded some what like a whiney child, or the Itallian Stallion impersonating a whiney child. "I was gonna say that I was sorry!"
"If I were you, I'd be sorry too," I said, still not looking at him.
"Oh come on, I apologised!" Whiney child Rocko said again.
"We aren't going to have sex, Rocko," I turned to him and met him with as cold a stare as anything, and he just kinda... stared back.
"I didn't ask you yet..."
"What can I say, you're predictable."
"Aw, come on," he whined at me and then gave up. "So what do you want to do if we aren't going to have sex?"
I thought about it for a moment and then shrugged. "Want a beer?" I asked, standing up.
"Uh, sure," he responded rather slowly and I smirked.
"Well then, come on," I said and headed towards a keg that had been set up in the other corner of the room.
Rocko pushed a bunch of people out of the way and got a beer for each of us. "Let's go," he said, putting the plastic cup in my hand and his arm around my waist. I was kind of confused for a moment, and stared ahead blindly.
My thoughts at that moment:
He's touching me.
He's not asking to have sex.
Why is he touching me?
Oh well. I followed him outside the lounge, and down the hall. By this time we had finished our beers, and stopped by a door with a paper name plate taped to it. It read: Cal & Nitz.
'Oh great,' I thought to myself. 'The drunk's going to try to get me to be nice to his loser friends... I hate that Cal guy...'
But when Rocko opened the unlocked door, (who keeps their doors unlocked anyways?) I saw no one. 'Great, instead of meeting his loser friends, he's going to want to have sex,' I thought. Up until this point I was actually rather surprised by the fact that he hadn't asked if I would have sex with him yet. He took the cup from my hand and I took a spot on a chair.
"Just so you know, I'm not going to ask you to have sex," he said, sitting on another chair and turning off the computer.
I wondered why he would do that, until I heard, "Curses you meat head!" from the speakers and a small image of a weird, slightly evil looking man. Then the screen went blank.
"Then why are we here?" I asked, rather unamused. The party was lame, but at least there were people there.
"Well I'm not exactly good with feelings and stuff, Andrea..." And there we go again, with the whiney child voice. "But..."
"Look, Rocko, I am not interested in just sex, or a relationship right now. Maybe later," I said, looking at him. His appearance moved from child to pathetic, beaten puppy dog. "Hey, look. I'll be your friend and all, I'm just not ready for anything right now." I forced a smile and gave him a hug.
"I'll see you later, Rocko," I spoke softly as I stood up, and kissed his cheek. "And do me a favour, don't come around to the club."
"Why not?" he asked, standing up. "If I can't see you taking off your clothes for free..."
"Because, It's awkward and creepy," I replied.
I left. I had no clue that I would end up transferring the end of that year. Fate works in mysterious ways...