- Lewis Grizzard

BITTER WEEK
YOU MOVED OUT
NOW IT WAS MY TURN
YOUR POSSESSIONS
FILLED MY HOUSE
IT WAS HARD
I NEEDED THEM OUT
WE MET
TO MOVE OUR BELONGINGS
IT'S REALLY OVER
LAST OF OUR FURNITURE WAS OUT
OUR MEMORIES WERE GONE
THE STORM BEGAN
THE LIGHTS BLINKED
AND WENT OUT
IN THE DARK
WE FOUND EACH OTHER
OUR BODIES TOUCHED
WE HELD TIGHTLY
IT HAD BEEN SO LONG
WE GENTLY UNDRESSED EACH OTHER
WITHOUT A WORD
NOTHING IN OUR HOUSE
EXCEPT
THE WHITE LACE CURTAINS
I TOOK THEM DOWN
SPREAD THEM ON THE FLOOR
LIGHTNING STROBED
WE LAID DOWN
THE PAIN OF SEPARATION
DISAPPEARED
WE LOVED ONCE MORE
THE THUNDER ROLLED
THROUGH THE HEAVENS
LIKE NEVER BEFORE
OUTSIDE
THE WIND BLEW
LIGHTNING FLASHED
THUNDER CRASHED
WE CAME TOGETHER
AND THE RAIN FELL
THE STORM RAGED
INSIDE
OUR RAGE WAS GONE
WE FELT RELIEF
AND FORGOT OUR TROUBLES
NOTHING BUT PLEASURE
AND LIGHTNING
FILLED THE ROOM
THE IMAGES REMAINED
IN OUR EYES
WE HELD EACH
FIRM AND GENTLE
HALF THE NIGHT WENT BY
OLD FEELINGS RETURNED
FOR THE MOMENT
BUT LIKE THE RAIN
THEY WOULD SOON WASH AWAY
LIKE THUNDER FOLLOWING LIGHTNING
EACH OF US CAME AGAIN
SILENTLY
WE STOOD
NUDE
BY THE WINDOW
IN EACH OTHER'S ARMS
WE WATCHED
THE STORM PASS

The second day of my trip, I had just finished eating lunch with Mum and headed back to the hotel to rest. As I was waiting in line for the valet, I saw a vision of beauty walking through the valet area. She looked Asian, had long, straight, black hair, full lips, nice figure, 34C, 24 years old, approx. 5'2" and somewhere around 105 lbs. She was dressed casually in a pair of low-rider jeans and a baby-doll shortie top that showed off her extremely flat & nicely muscled stomach. And the best thing - she was by herself. Now when it comes to girl watching, I'm very good. I saw her for less than 2 seconds and was still able to get all that info burned into my brain before she disappeared around a corner.

Trying to hurry the valet up, I got out of my car and motioned for his attention. He looked toward me and I cocked my eyes in the direction of the now long-gone girl. Knowing exactly what I meant, he smiled, came right over to me, got my keys, got a nice tip and said "Good luck."

It's not something I normally do, but like a dog on the hunt (or at least hoping to catch another glimpse) I trailed after her. I rounded the corner, where she had only moments before left my sight, and was stopped in my tracks by her sitting right there on the curb - sunning herself. Not expecting to really catch her, I was tongue-tied and said the first thing that came to mind. "Are you a model?" Duh, what a stupid first line. But to my surprise, she said "No, but I want to be." A smile shot across my face as I whipped out my card, told her I was a photographer and sat down next to her. We sat there for the next two hours talking and getting to know each other. Her name was "M." She was not Asian, but a nice Black / Puerto Rican Mix. She had a great smile and her description was almost to the "T" as I described earlier (God, I'm good). She was from New York, flew in a day early to meet with some friends and was staying in the same hotel as me. What luck!

We decided to get some dinner. We ate Italian - she had rigatoni while I had spaghetti. We talked & laughed a lot and really hit it off. During dinner she ordered a bottle of expensive wine and since I don't drink, she polished off about half of it. After dinner I had to go see Mum and tell her that I have a date and now can't spend the evening with her. "M" said that she'd wait for me and when I got back we'd go out on the town together. And I'm thinking "Can this really be happening to me?" And apparently it was. Kewl!

I flew across town to Mum's, spent a few minutes with her, told her the bad (good) news, then drove, like a man that really wants to get laid, back to the hotel. I got back to my room, called "M" and made plans to go to her room and pick her up. Absoutely-un-fucking-believable! Her room was right next to mine. I'm not kidding! Could things get any better?

I left my room, walked ten steps and knocked. Half-dressed, she opened the door and invited me in. You know that sound that Homer Simpson makes when he wants a doughnut or ice-cream? Well that's the sound I made as I entered her room and saw her half-naked body. Wow! She gave me a hug, finished getting dressed then, hand in hand, we were out the door.

As we passed my room I heard the phone ringing. Of course I had to answer it. While I talked on the phone, she started jumping on and down on the bed, having a good time and laughing like a kid on a sleep-over. Again, I'm not kidding! Within a minute, she had rolled herself up in my blanket and fell off the bed - landing on her head and laughing. It was at this time that I finally realized that she was a little tipsy - having had finished off the rest of the wine while she waited for me to return. What did I get myself into? I got off the phone, picked her up and unrolled her from the blanket. I brushed the hair away from her face and we kissed. Mmmmmmm... I wanted to "do" her right then and there and I think I could have, but being a gentleman (what an idiot), I asked her if she was ready to go. A few minutes later we were in my car and heading to the Hard Rock Cafe.

On the way to the club, her tipsiness seemed to wear off a little. We talked, laughed, learned a little more about each other and held hands between shifting (yes, I drive a stick and I love it). We left the car with the valet and, with her on my arm, entered the club. It was just like I've seen in the movies - she was the best looking girl there and I was the envy of every other man. I saw the look in their eyes and they knew, as well as I did, that tonight, I was gonna have some of the best sex I've ever had. It was deffo a huge boost for my ego. She headed straight to the bar!

She quickly downed a glass of wine, ordered another, then, for the benefit of all the other guys watching, stuck her tongue down my throat - she's such a tease. Besides the awful taste of cheap bar wine, I certainly didn't mind locking lips with her. Her drink arrived and our lips parted long enough for her to gulp it down. She ordered another and as I puckered for the expected kiss, she reached back and grabbed the ass of the guy standing behind her. The color drained from my face as the bruiser turned and looked directly at me. Of course I averted my eyes away like I was guilty... Uh, I mean "innocent as can be" and (thank God) the bruiser looked right past me for the culprit. Meanwhile "M," with her back to the man, was kissing on my neck and trying not to giggle. Once I got the vision of my face being pummeled out of my head, I realized that it really was pretty funny. For the next hour or so, between downing drinks and pawing all over me, she grabbed guy's asses and then played innocent as they looked around for the perv. Of course we (and I say "we" because I became a willing accessory) got caught a few times But most of the men that caught us thought it was pretty funny - especially since whenever we got caught, she would usually start flirting and rubbing her body all over them. But just as the guys would get the idea in their head that they might steal her away from me, she would stop, turn, and give me attention like I was her one and only lover. Dang, she was good! Real good!

But all good things must come to an end and the end was approaching. "M," having downed too many drinks for me to count, was wobbling on her feet, slurring her words and getting much bolder; not only gabbing guy's butts, but their crotches as well. Now I felt more like her guardian angel than her future sex partner. She was so drunk that I pretty much knew if I didn't get her out of there, then I'd never get laid tonight. 

As I was talking to one of our victims, "M" quietly let go of my arm. I assumed that she was scoping out another target. How right I was. I turned to stop her but she was already out of reach - making a "bee-line" for the casino floor. Oh Lord, what did I get myself into? Just like in the movies, everything went into slow-motion. "Noooooooo..." I muscled my way through the crowd, drinks flying in the air. By the time I caught up to her, her hand was already reaching for the ass of a man that was about to roll his dice at the craps table. Still in slow-motion, I grabbed her hand (now back to normal speed) and spun her around. Laughing, she fell into my arms, knocking me into the Pit Boss. It really was time to go!

Trying to keep what was left of my dignity and knowing that I was no longer the envy of every guy, I held her "ass-clutching" hands to her side and guided her drunken weight through the casino toward the exit. By the time we got to the valet, she couldn't walk, I was carrying her. I plopped her inebriated ass down on the bench and waited for my car. Of course at this point she became very amorous and kept trying to remove our clothes. While gently restraining her from making a total fool out herself, she passed out. Thank God!

A few minutes later, my car arrived. I lifted "Sleeping Beauty" off the bench and carried her to it. The valet opened the front passenger door and I tried to deposit my prize onto the seat. Like a cat that doesn't want to take a bath, "M's" arms and legs shot out clutching the perimeter of the door. All of a sudden she had no idea who I was. I had to explain to her who I was and that I was taking her back to her hotel. Of course the valet was now giving me a strange "what are you doing to this drunk girl and should I call security" look. As I was trying to smooth things over with the valet, "M" had a moment of clarity and decided to get in the car - but only if she could ride in the back seat. I more than gladly put her there, then tried to buckle her in. Of course, she argued about wearing the seat belt and just as I let her win, she passed out across the back seat. I was now thinking it would be great if I could just get this lush back to her room before anything else goes wrong.

I pull onto the street and look into my rearview mirror - only to see "M" bolt up to a sitting position and weakly proclaim "I'm gonna be sick." Immediately, I pull into a driveway, jump out of the car and open the back door. "M" leans out the door and lets loose a "Barney" burp. I swear I saw her lips flutter. Then sitting back up, she smiles at me and tells me that she's ok now. Riiiiiight! I find a plastic garbage bag, hand it to her and tell her that I don't want her getting sick in my car. She again smiles. I don't like the look of that smile. Her eyes then roll back up in her head as she once again slumps across the back seat. Ok, time to get her back to her room and out of my life!

I again pull onto the street and head back to our hotel. I keep checking the rearview for her little head to pop up like a "Jack-in-the-Box". Nothing. At this point, I'm finally starting to realize and accept that I'm really not gonna get any sex tonight. I mean... having sex with someone that is a little drunk is ok, but having sex with someone that is a lot drunk and passing out is not! Damn my morals! I check the rearview. Still nothing. As I drive, I keep thinking that she's so lucky that she's with me because I really am a gentleman. I can just imagine some other guy taking her back to his hotel, taking advantage of her, dumping her in an alley or worse. Now I "know" that I'm her guardian angel tonight. Check rearview. Ahhhhhhh! She's sitting up! And worse, there's saliva bubbles coming out of her mouth. ICK! I ask her if she's ok. No answer. Damn! What should I do? She's really sloshed. I feel like I'm in high school again. Maybe I should take her to the hospital? Red light! I reach back and touch her. "Are you okay?" In response, like she has no neck muscles, her head wobbles from side to side and drool slides over her luscious full lips. What a sight! I bet that makes her Momma proud! 

Honk! Honk! The light has turned green and the car behind is impatient. Knowing that it's not a good idea, I reluctantly ease into the intersection. I check the rearview mirror just in time to see "M" lurch forward - spewing wine and rigatoni from of her mouth. Again things move in slow-motion as projected vomit splatters down the back of my neck and car seat. I yell "Not in my car! Not in my car!" The car behind me is honking. I'm trying to get through the intersection to pull over, but of course, I'm in the middle lane and am surrounded by cars speeding past. I check the rearview and see "M" starting to retch again. Honk! Honk! "NOT IN MY CAR!" She opens the door and leans way out - puking on the pavement. Shit! She's not wearing her seat belt! "Close the door!" I envision her falling out of the car and me running over her with my back tires then trying to explain it all to the Police. Honk! Now everything is happening so fast. "Close the door!" I swerve! Hoooonk! "CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR!" Honk! She closes the door and immediately "up-chucks" all over it. Oh, great timing! Now immune to the other cars and their "get out of my way I have to go lose my money in a casino" honking, I plow across three lanes of traffic and pull into a convenience store parking lot. I immediately jump out of the car and yank open the back door. "M" falls toward me and I catch her - keeping her from hitting the pavement. She immediately repays my kindness by "ralphing" on my shoes. I did the only thing I could do - I held her already vomit-soaked hair away from her face and let her continue. It deffo was not my night!

For the next hour or so, I cleaned the contents of her stomach off of her and out of my car. I've never seen so much puke. Not only did she throw-up all over the back seat, the back of the front seat, me, the back door & window, she also threw-up all over her self. I felt like mother cleaning her baby. I cleaned it off her clothes, out of her pockets, off her face, fingers and from between her toes. Damn! I'm such a nice guy. I don't even know this girl! But here I am at 2 am in the morning in a Sin City convenience store parking lot taking care of her. But I did learn one interesting thing about "M." She doesn't chew her food well - I found whole rigatoni noodles all over my car.

By the time I finished cleaning, "M" had fallen soundly asleep. I drove back to the hotel, and not wanting to carry her through the casino, I opted to self park. 

Thinking that it might be best if I kept an eye on her through the night, I carried her straight to my room and gently put her in the second bed. I went to the bathroom, washed her stomach juice from my hands and got ready to go to sleep. I was exhausted! As I started to slip into my bed, I looked over at her and realized that her clothes were covered with dry vomit and she really shouldn't sleep in them. 

Getting the clothes of a drunk girl is not as easy as you would think. She woke up, and thinking that I was trying to do more than I was, weakly tried to push me away. I convinced her that I was only trying to make her a little more comfortable and after a moment she didn't care anymore. She let me remove the remainder of her clothes. Since her bra and thong were not covered in vomit, I left them on. Besides, I didn't want her to wake up in the morning thinking I did anything wrong. 

Before I finished tucking her in, I took a nice look at her body. Wow! I felt a little twinge of movement in my boxers and... Since I'm only human... I started to think... She would never know... Why not... Hmmmmm... Maybe... NO! Damn! She's a passed out drunk! What the hell am I thinking? I jumped into my own bed and turned out the light.

Just as I was starting to fall asleep, she let out a moan. Hoping that she wanted me, I was instantly by her side and asking if she was all right. She was sound asleep. Hmmmmm... Maybe??? No, dammit! Sex with a passed out, vomit covered girl is not good! Go back to bed! I did, but I couldn't sleep. 

Even through everything that had just happened, I was horny. There was a hot babe laying (passed out) and nearly naked just a few feet from me and there was nothing I could do about it. I thought about jacking-off. But how would that look if she woke up? So I laid there with a raging hard-on, looking at her at her and wishing that she'd wake up and ask me to fuck her. But of course that wasn't gonna happen.

So I lay there trying to convince myself that it's probably a good thing. I really don't believe in one-night stands anyway. I don't even know this person, and besides she might be a psycho - just waiting for me to fall asleep so she can frame me for something that I didn't do, or worse - kill me!... Damn! Now I really can't sleep.

I woke up early. "M" was still asleep. I got up to go pee and when I returned she was sitting up and looking strangely at me. She started to ask me why I was in her room, but before she could finish the sentence, she realized that it wasn't her room. She immediately lifted the covers to see if she was naked or dressed. Seeing her undies still on, relief crossed her face. I sat on my bed and proceeded to tell her about our night of adventure.

By the time I finished the story, an hour or so later, she was in my bed - laughing about her actions and cuddling with me. The last thing that she remembered was getting a drink at the bar. After that - nothing! She apologized profusely, assured me that had never happened before and asked what she could do to make it up. Of course, the first thing I thought of was... SEX! Right here! Right now! But, like an gentlemanly idiot, I told her she could buy me breakfast and pay to have my car cleaned. She agreed!

Later, we tried cleaning my car a little more (it really smelled), but after a while, we gave up and went to eat. Right after breakfast we were back in my room - cuddling & kissing until check-out time.

She asked me if I wanted to stay and hang out with her and her friends, but I had to get back to LA. Damn! Damn! Damn! She walked me to my car, gave me a huge hug and kiss, apologized again, asked me not to forget her and promised that she would keep in touch.

There is no way I could ever forget her. I drove all the way back to LA with the windows down and still had the fine scent of her "stomach-wine" burned into my nostrils.

Even with her puking in my car, it was a lot of fun and I did have a good time. And to top it all off, just a few days ago I received a letter from "M" asking me if I would like to meet her in Vegas the next time she goes. Also enclosed was a check to get my car detailed.

I think I've now reached the end of this Totally True Tale. Or have I?