TMI Thursday: I need a little more “substance”

I had this whole post written out yesterday and was going to save it to be posted today… but my computer crapped out on me and deleted the whole thing. It was a marvelous story.. Now you get the shorter (but still long) version with less OOMPH…

***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s! See more here!***

My senior year of high school I had no friends. They had all already graduated and moved away to college.. so naturally, when I started waiting tables at the newly opened Bob Evans in Stafford, I quickly latched on to all the people there who were close to my age and we became bestest friends… sort of.

One of these people was a guy named Chris. He was slightly overweight, with most of it concentrated to his stomach and upper thighs, and worked as a cook in the hell hole restaurant. We hung out a bunch.. went to movies with other people we worked with, and hung out at his parents house. [Winner!]

He flirted with me a lot… I flirted back… and one night while we were hanging out at his house, one thing led to another and we ended up naked in his stinky twin sized bed. I’m a slut. [He was 24... twin bed still?? Come on!] Before this, I hadn’t seen his package… after this, I wished I had NEVER seen his package  and never wanted to see it again.

As I was helping him pull off his pants, I saw it. Or at least I thought I did. It was really small. Like the size of your ring finger if you have normal sized hands, small. I even had to lift a roll of fat up a little to get to it. *shudder*

I was a little drunk.. and proceeded anyways. He told me he wanted me to ride him.. So I assumed the position.. I kept trying to make sure he was hard.. it didn’t seem like it was big enough yet… but he told me he wanted me, so I slipped it in.

Wait. DID I slip it in? I couldn’t feel it. I was thinking about how SMALL it really was.. and how stupid this was… then I did something he will never forget.

I thought out loud.

“Is it in yet? I can’t feel it. UGH! It’s too small! This is stupid Chris… we shouldn’t be doing this!”

He grabbed me on both sides of my hips and threw me to the side… being that it was a small bed, I tumbled off  onto the floor and hit my head on the night stand.

He stood up and started yelling at me. I sat there clutching my forehead in pain.

“Get out! Grab your fucking clothes and get out of my house! You NEVER tell a guy his dick is small! What the hell is wrong with you Erica?! God! You fucking bitch!”

Obscenities followed me around the room, down the stairs and out to the street as I gathered my things, less one shoe, and ran to my car.

He didn’t talk to me at work for a month. If I put a ticket in the window for a food order, he passed it to one of the other cooks.

I quit working there shortly after and went off to fail my freshman year of real college.

I saw him at NOVA (Northern Virginia Community College for all you non-locals) [read: NOT-real college] a year later. He had lost all of his fat and was actually kind of handsome.. he told me he still had my shoe if I wanted it back. And told me we should hang out sometime.

I didn’t.  And said ok.

We did hang out. For about 30 minutes… he was already drunk when I got there, tried to feel me up and got shot down. I remembered how small his dick was and how much my head hurt when he hurled me into the corner of the nightstand, and told him I preferred guys with a little more “substance” and who didn’t still live with his parents at 25.

He threw a bottle at me as I walked out of the house.

I keyed his precious car.

The toilet is NOT a garbage disposal

Question 1: Seriously ladies?? Food??

Question 2: Why in the HELL are you eating in the bathroom.

Gross.

TMI Thursday: If a tree falls in the woods…

…and no one is around to see it- do the other trees laugh at it??

So I have never written a post for TMI Thursday’s..but I love reading them! And I never write because I really can’t think of anything embarassing or sucky that happened to me… In college, I was always the one reminding everyone ELSE of the stupid and gross things they did…

If my memory would like to come back to me now and remind me of those things, please do so…

But earlier today.. I remembered an “incident” involving myself back in 9th grade..

I shall share…

***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!*** See other posts here!

I had the pleasure and privelage of growing up with a parent in the military. [Thanks Dad!] One of my most favorite places to be stationed was Naples, Italy.

If you haven’t been- you should go.

Anywhore. Being that we lived and went to school on a housing installation (or base/compound/prison like place where you can leave at your own free will but shouldn’t because there is NOTHING within walking distance except highways and a pot farm), there wasn’t much to do for entertainment except various after/during school activities.

My choice? Naval Junior Reserve Officer’s Training Corps (NJROTC).

yea I dunno either. I guess cuz everyone else was doing it. (Our school was SMALL. Like graduating class of 60 people small.)

But it was fun… gave me something to do on weekends.. and gave me a whole half a day of school every day to wear a tight, uncomfortable, unflattering uniform, and march around outside in the hot sun.

I digress. Said day of “Incident” was Promotion day. Everyone in ROTC got together in the cafeteria (uniforms and all) and stood in formation within our platoons…Like zeees:

We will pretend that the little red guy on the far right in the second row back is me. K?

So we are standing in formation for like EVER in Parade Rest.
If you look at the knees, they appear to be stretched straight out, not bent at all. Well. That is the WROOONG way to stand. You MUST MUST MUST bend your knees when standing in formation for extended periods of time.

Why? You might ask? Because if you lock your knees, it can cut off the blood circulation to the rest of your body and it can cause you to inevitably pass out.

Guess what my little red Lego man did?! He locked his knees!

Although I’m pretty sure I was bending them every once in awhile.. You are supposed to stand still so as not to draw attention to yourself.. So while we are waiting for those Cadet’s who were getting promotions to get pinned, I was locking my knees and thinking about how embarassing it would be if I just happened to pass out that day.

Well folks- I did. I could feel it coming. My ears started ringing LOUDLY, my eyes went BLACK and I began to tumble forward into the other little red lego man standing in front of me, who happened to be my friend Chris who SAID he tried grabbing me as I plowed into him and fell flat on my face.. but I still don’t believe him.

Aaaanyway! I bit it. HARD. I remember hearing the Gunnery Seargeant and the platoon leaders yelling “BEND YOUR KNEES! BEND YOUR KNEES!” To all the other cadets as I fell to my demise.. but it was too late for me.

The next thing I remember is I am laying on a couch in the ROTC room, UPSTAIRS on the THIRD friggen floor of the school, with a cold rag on my forehead, and a searing pain in my lower facial region. I was also laying down next to a REALLY hot guy who was one of the Platoon Leaders or some other rank I don’t remember (he was keeping an eye on me)…  I. was. mortified.

The Gunnery Seargeant was squatting in front of me yelling at  me to wake up and looking at me like I had just eaten his baby child– with sincere concern for my well being of course.

I sat up quickly, but got really dizzy and had to lay back down… The GS was telling me about what had happened and mentioned that HE was the one who carried me upstairs and put me on the couch… 2 hours ago… 2 FRIGGEN HOURS AGO. I couldn’t believe I had passed out in front of the whole school pretty much and had been laying on the couch for 2 hours..

I talk in my sleep. I wonder if I said anything bad…

So for the rest of the school year I wasn’t allowed to stand in formation for a long time because GS was afraid I woul dpass out again (I was also kinda teacher’s pet).. so he made me do stupid things like video tape it, and other boring demeaning crap.

And I gained a nickname out of it all.

Timber.

Aha. It’s funny right? Cuz I’m uber tall and was really skinny then? Like a tree? Like a tree falling in the woods?? No.

Not funny. When my family found out- they called me Timber too…

So for two years I had to walk around with the nickname Timber. People would recount the story and add in the Tiiiiiimmmbeeeerrrrrrrrrrr sound effect when they would describe me falling into Chris and smashing my face on the nasty cafeteria floor.

I also broke off a chunk of chin bone upon contact with the concrete floor.. I can still feel it too. It’s gross.

That is MY embarassing story.. Every once in awhile my mom will call me Timber just to remind me of old times when I didn’t have a sense of humor and was extremely critical of myself…

Now I just laugh about it…

I will have to find a picture of how goofy I looked dressed up in our Dress Blues.. it was terrible.