Boyfriend Chronicles #5 / Spicy Shrimp and Sausage Creamy Rosé Sauce & Gnocchi

I could bore you with all the little petty fights we had over the next few months instead I will entertain you with probably one of the most humiliating moments of my teenage years. I would like to say I was saving myself because I was a proper Southern lady but anyone who knows me will tell you my proper Southern lady moments are few and only last until I get aggravated and then my potty mouth tendencies come flooding back. I promised myself that I would wait until I had graduated high school. I am not sure why Catholic guilt? Paranoia? I am just plain stubborn? 

High school done and diploma in hand we planned to meet up in Spain while both on a European trip. This is it I decided. What could be more perfect? Spain with my high school sweetheart. It was going to be perfect. A memory to last a lifetime. At least I can say I got that last part right. Planning for the trip and this major life decision I did all my appropriate shopping. Including my first trip to a Victorias Secret. I walked in hesitant and it went downhill from there. Surrounded by all these lacy things that seemed you need a minor in engineering to figure out what went wear. How could something so small be so confusing? I spent 90% of my time trying to avoid the salesgirl. It became a strange game of cat and mouse until she finally caught me in her frilly thing trap. Forced to be face to face with her asking, “What can I help you with? Do you need me to measure you for a bra?” I reacted as any awkward teenage girl would. I stuttered and looked around for an escape route. My solution was to grab the thing closet to me and announce, “No, this is what I was looking for.” She took one look at it and asked me, “Are you sure?” Before she could say anything else I headed to the register not too sure exactly what I was buying but it was black and lacy. It had to be good right? How different could these things be when the whole lingerie section was probably a total of two yards of fabric? I ran out of there with my treasure in hand and never looked back. I should have looked back or at least in the bag. 

The next day off I flew to Paris with my lacy garment amongst all my responsible traveling clothes. I will save my European adventures for another day as to not get off subject. After about a week in France I headed to Spain. This was it, folks, it was going to happen. My great Spanish love affair. 

We met up and traveled around San Sebastian with his cousins showing us all the sights and sounds. Since he had family there we got to stay in their spare room. Not that romantic but hey I am still in Europe. As we get ready for bed and he starts to get the room ready. Which involved pulling the sofa bed out. The old very creaky sofa bed that looked like it may have been the first one ever made. I was getting a little doubtful but convinced myself its more romantic this way. We were like starving artists living in a tiny loft in Spain surviving on love and passion for our work. No matter he was becoming a welder and had worn a Budweiser print shirt that day. Welders can be sculptors and the shirt was making a statement about the common man. I head to the bathroom to change into my “sexy” outfit.

I pull it out of the bag and hold it up. What is this?  A sexy leotard? How is that a thing? It seemed big and yet small at the same time. Now let me add in it was also a thong one-piece number. As I put it on I realize my mistake. Lingerie can be too big. Like the crotch is almost to your knees too big.  How to solve this problem? Now at this age, I know that just throwing it off and walking out naked will upset no man, especially that has waited over a year. Unfortunately, a 17-year-old does not have this wisdom. So my brilliant plan was to tie up the straps. What I must have looked like walking out?  Trying to be sexy with two rabbit ear straps sticking up and a thong that went  up my back as if my shoulder blades were the butt cheeks. I still tried to be sexy so I should get brownie points for a positive attitude.

Things started as you would have imagined. I slowly started to be less nervous and thought, it’s not too bad, this can still be a perfect memory. All of a sudden I was in a musty cocoon. The bed had collapsed and here I was half-naked stuck in it. After I was saved from my sad sex pit the mood was noticeably different. At this point, I think I just wanted to get over with and had accepted that this great moment was going the way of all first times, a whole lot of fumbling and disappointment. 

As we lay there I realized at least I have this. Wrapped in my true love’s arms as we drift off to sleep in a haze of satisfaction and love. He turns to me and looks in my eyes - he is going to tell me how much he loves me, how wonderful that was. Nope, instead, he said, “Hey it is really hot in here do you mind sleeping on the couch?” There it is folks, the end to my perfect night. Laying on a couch in a stranger’s living room in a Budweiser shirt covering my disaster lingerie.