"Whoah, girl. That ain't a banana."
Snorting laughter. Sweaty bangs clinging to her forehead. Tongue red with spiked Kool Aid.
"And you ain't no monkey!"
Laughing so hard now she's not making any sound, so she bends over and slaps her thigh again and again to make it come out. Stumbles on the way back up. He catches her and then seconds later they're making out on the packed, beer soaked dance floor.
Color Me Badd.
Boyz II Men.
Tony Toni Tone.
Hot, dark, humid basement.
The first weekend of college. Still more summer than fall.
Bare shoulder, purple bra strap.
Four more cups of jungle juice. Tongues, lips, hands. Blind teenaged lust.
You wanna get out of here?
Stumble back to his dorm. Roommate's gone. Somewhere. Home? Doesn't matter.
He puts the sock on the knob (so to speak), delighted to be using the universal dorm room signal already.
Closes the door.
Two more beers are opened, sipped from, never touched again. Creedence on the CD player.
Creedence!
Clumsy, awkward, fumbling sex, like Mr. Bean making love to Amy Winehouse.
While listening to Proud Mary.
Without a seatbelt.
And then nine months later here I am. And now 17 years after that I'm going to the same school.
Maybe I'll make a pilgrimmage to my dad's old dorm room some day.
Anyway, that's my story.
What about you? How did your parents meet?
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