I Get Even
We were in KKMC (King Khalid Military City, Saudi Arabia) when we heard we were going home. We’d been sitting around for a few months while the powers-that-be considered our fate and we were restless as hell. No one knew if we’d be staying for another 6 months, re-deploying back to Germany, or sent somewhere new, so we were going stir-crazy.
Some General somewhere finally realized that keeping German and Russian linguists sitting around doing nothing was pointless, so he decided our unit was going to be decommissioned and the best place to do that was back at our home base in Germany.
We all had our reasons to be excited. Some missed their kids, some were leaving the Army when we got back, others had pets, but for me, it was simple. I missed partying. I wanted bourbon, I wanted cider, I wanted women, and dear god I wanted the incredible street gyros in Sachsenhausen.
If you read the story of the French girl, you’ll remember that she was my girlfriend before we left and I had never responded to any of her letters. I still don’t understand the thought process in my pea brain that thought she’d be better off if she thought I was dead, and to this day I feel badly, but the end result was that I had no one to go back to. I wasn’t worried since there were always plenty of girls available but I hadn’t counted on the thousands of guys who’d just spent months in a war returning to the same place, at the same time, as horny as I was, and just as determined to score.
After a 5 hour shower at my apartment, cleaning sand from crevices I had forgotten existed, I took a long nap and woke up ready to hit the bars. My goal was clear – I was going to find someone special beautiful, intelligent, funny and cool. Ok, that’s a lie. I wanted someone who would say, “Sure War, let’s go! Ravage me you returning hero!”
When I got to the Irish Pub in Sachsenhausen, I realized this was going to be harder than I’d thought. The bar was flooded with returning service members, so the girls there had their choice of guys, and damn, they leveraged it well. At this point I had 3 choices.
- You join the line for one of the hot chicks – Fuck that. I have zero interest in standing in line with my tongue hanging out just hoping that when I finally get to the front of the line I’m going to hit the right combination and she’ll go home with me. It’s just … well, undignified and humiliating. Not just no, but hell no.
- Give up – Hell with that. There was no way I was going to crawl back to my apartment and fall asleep after what we’d just been through. Plus, you have to strike while the iron is hot. Many of the girls at the bars were looking for boyfriends and would be off the market after tonight. This was pretty common, by the way. We used to joke that the German girls just wanted to live in the “Land of the Great PX (Post Exchange)”.
- Compromise – Now there’s no shame in lowering your expectations in the interest of success. Let the haters hate, but at the end of the evening when I’m having wild rollicking sex with someone new and the alternative is a hooker or “taking care of one’s own business”, I’ll take the fun bouncing girl on top of me every time.
Ok, so I made the decision to cut my losses and score, then scanned the room for someone acceptable. In a dark corner I saw her. Holy sweet mother of god. Smoking ass. Long brown hair. Slender. She was with two girls and I know that can be a pain, but nothing someone of my caliber couldn’t surmount. Remember, horny + confident + just came back from a war = success. I grabbed my Beam and Coke and headed over. I don’t remember what line I used to broach their defenses, but they laughed, and I turned to see the object of my desire.
Did you know there’s a steak in Texas that’s 72oz? Yep. Four and a half pounds. The Great Texan Steak House in Amarillo, TX will give it to you for free if you can eat the whole thing, that’s how big it is. It puts other steaks to shame. If you finish it, your name is put up on the wall with others who have accomplished the herculean feat. Anyone attempting it eats on a raised table in the center of the restaurant, where everyone there can see someone crazy enough to try to eat a 72oz steak. That’s how ridiculously large it is and it’s the largest piece of meat I’ve ever seen.
With the exception of this girl’s nose. Holy god. Think of a keel on a sailboat. You know, that thing that extends deep into the water and keeps the boat from tipping over? Pretend some evil genius fused it to this poor girl’s face. I felt the wind when she turned to me. It all became clear. Yes, she had a killer body, but there was no way under normal circumstances I could have ignored the nose. Fortunately, these weren’t normal circumstances. I kept the shock off my face and continued to charm the three of them, slowly but surely focusing my attention on her.
Her response was gratifying. She was surprised at first, probably because her friends were better looking, albeit chunkier, and I was clearly warming up to her. I did my normal routine of funny and self-deprecating humor and when she snorted in laughter I felt twin blasts of warm air on my cheek. But I didn’t care. She was mine and that night she was going help me back into the groove.
Enter my buddy Ron. Good guy, although a tad boring. Girls liked him for about the first couple weeks, then they took off, mostly because while he was tall, dark, and handsome, he was also boring. So things would start off hot and heavy, then things would become strained and slowly taper off to nothing when the girls realized there was really nothing to talk about. I’d seen it happen many times. Anyway, Ron stumbled up, half-lit and irritated that he’d struck out all night. He came up to find out how I was doing and if I’d had any success. He knew my reputation, so when he saw the three girls and me, he arrived at the natural and accurate conclusion. So, he leaned over and in what to him was a stage whisper, bellowed:
“WAR! YOU GONNA BANG THE BITCH WITH THE BEAK?”
I watched her face turn beet red. Her friends looked at Ron in shock. My face fell. In that moment I knew there was no recovery. Her hands flew up to her nose as if to cover it, but that wasn’t possible, so she rushed off, her friends in tow.
“No, Ron, I’m not.” I said.
By now it was late, too late to try and start over. The hotties were gone, the drunks were sloppy, and dammit, I wasn’t getting laid. Thanks Ron, you rat bastard. I vowed to get even.
My chance came less than a month later. Ron had managed to find a really cute girl a few weeks after the incident but she’d already gotten bored of him. I had talked to her a few times and played the clever card, so she already liked me. I can’t remember her name so let’s call her something good and German. How about Helga? Sure, why not? Anyway, one night a bunch of us were back at the Irish Pub getting our drink on. Ron lumbered around getting Helga drinks while I made her laugh. A few minutes later, he said he had to get up early and was heading out. She told him she was going to stick around for a bit but she’d catch up with him later. Hot Damn! I was in! Not long after Ron left, I asked Helga if she’d mind giving me a ride home. Of course she was glad to help. We got back to my apartment building and I asked if she wanted to come up for a bit.
Now here’s the deal. It was nearly 2:00am. Helga was sober as she’d only had a few drinks and those had worn off hours before. She had to work the next day, so she wasn’t looking for a place to crash and sleep it off. I didn’t have any coffee, hell, I didn’t even have a coffee maker back then. She’d been flirting with me all night, light touches, hair flips, coy glances and innuendo. I knew the deal and so did she. We weren’t there to hold hands, we were going to have sex and I couldn’t wait.
I don’t think she made it up the first flight of stairs before attacking me and her clothes were off before we got inside. We were making out like crazy, almost frantically, and I told her my standard line: “I don’t have any boundaries. Tell me what you want me to do to you. Anything your sick little mind can think up, I’ll do. Just tell me.” She paused for a second, looked at me and nodded slowly in thought then a slow smile came over her face. Uh oh…
Her fantasy was forced sex that turns her on so much she can’t help but get into it. I had pretend I’d picked her up and wouldn’t let her go home, physically restraining her while she tried to get away, then tying her up and having my way with her. Well ok then! It turned out she was strong as hell and I had to actually work at it! It was actually tough keeping her down but at the same time a huge turn-on. Who knew?
I looked around for something to tie her wrists with and all I could find was the belt on my bathrobe. It was standard terrycloth and wouldn’t rip, so I tied her up and went to town on her. She was fun as hell, writhing around like crazy, trying to get loose but she went from “Nein, nein nein nein” to “JA JA JA JA” and when she came I’m pretty sure she woke the evil cleaning lady who lived in the room directly beneath mine.
All in all, I was pretty proud of the performance. I untied her and as we were sitting there naked having a drink she noticed her wrists. In all the excitement, my robe had pretty much taken the skin off her wrists. She wasn’t bleeding, but she looked like a recently rescued hostage. It was bad. The worst part of the whole thing was there is really only one way to get those marks and everyone who saw them would know exactly how. She took off and I went to bed.
I saw her a few days later at a party and she was there with Ron. Her wrists were bandaged. I managed to get her alone and asked her what the hell had happened. She told Ron she’d fallen down the stairs. He believed her and that was that. I think they lasted another week or so, but it was all downhill from there. I only saw her once again but that’s another story.
I repeated this until I left Germany a few months later. I slept with every single one of his girlfriends. And then I’d tell him. He had no real emotional investment in them, so it was just funny. If he had actually liked them I wouldn’t have done it, but he was just pissed that he’d wasted all that time priming them and I’d come in and pump them. Several of his “girlfriends” he hadn’t actually slept with. So he did all the legwork and I’d get laid.
He got out of the Army and I didn’t hear from him for a few years. When I did, I heard he was in the building across the street from the one that was blown up in Oklahoma. He was cut up pretty badly from flying shards of glass and really hasn’t been right in the head since. I think he went back into the military, although I’m not entirely sure. I do know he ended up working for Blackwater for a few years and has turned into a badass.
Somehow, I’ve haven’t run into him since, although my friends have. It might be for the best. I’m still kinda irritated at him for cockblocking me that one time. Some things you just can’t forgive.
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Cheating & Winning a Kissing Contest
The job in D.C was fun, but my last year there I spent 362 days on the road and I was just burnt. I wasn’t making enough money to matter and decided I was done. The client site was located in central New Jersey and I was sick of hotels, airports and conference calls. I knew if I saw another minibar or had to use another tiny bottle of shampoo I’d lose it. I decided life was too short to wear a suit and tie and told my boss I was done.
My Army buddies Dirk and Karin were only a few hours north of there and when I told them I was quitting they told me to bring my ass up there. They lived right outside of Woodstock and I figured it was as good a place as anywhere to land. I packed my car and drove north into my new life.
I love Woodstock. It’s full of earthy hippies, tie dye shirts, and lots of crystals. Maybe the people there are stuck in the 60s but they’re friendly and fun and if you get a contact high walking down the street, well, there are worse things in life.
Dirk and Karin lived in neighboring Saugerties, a sleepy little town with a few antique shops, quaint diners, mom-and-pop stores and an oddly out-of-place strip club. Dimly lit and straddling the city limits, the Ace of Clubs was short on class but never entertainment. I saw a mother drinking, cutting loose and cheering on the dancers absolutely lose her mind when her daughter unexpectedly came out on the stage.
People always say “There’s no sex in the ‘Champagne Room’” and it might be true. However, at the Ace of Clubs, I can personally attest that there’s sex on the desk in the back office because I was nearly killed by that little paperweight thing with the nail that sticks up. I think it’s called a desk spindle. Long story but take my advice and clear the desk before challenging a stripper to “show me what you got” after she’s done a few rails.
I didn’t discover the charms of the Ace of Clubs until months later so as far as I knew, the only fun was to be found in Woodstock or partying with my friends. Hey, not that there was anything wrong with that. I loved my friends and was looking forward to spending time with them. We had years of catching up to do! I didn’t know it then, but that was all about to be put on hold.
About a week after I arrived, the town was all excited because the big event was happening! The Garlic Festival was coming to town! When I told people I’d never heard of it they looked at me like I’d never heard of Santa, or Jesus, or Oprah. Ok, ok, I’m a dumbass. Just tell me already.
They helpfully explained that every year, about 40,000 people show up to eat everything garlic. Garlic chocolate, garlic bread, garlic jam, etc., all are available and most are disgusting. A large part of the money in the town’s coffers comes during that one week and the entire town gets into the spirit of the event. Stores redecorate, hotels rent rooms for triple the normal rate and during that week Saugerties is the only place in the country you’re completely safe from Twilight fans.
Anyway, Dirk, Karin, and her extended family (to be described later) went every year, so they were all excited. I don’t mean any disrespect to them – hey, I said the town was sleepy. Anyway, the big day arrived and everyone trooped down to help set up. This festival is such a big money-maker for Saugerties that everyone who actually lives there is expected to helps out.
I went down because I had nothing better to do, plus it’s fun getting lit and watching people eat food that would make those crazy food channel guys vomit. Who the hell would expect garlic peanut butter?
Anyway, I got up early and drove down to the local high school where the annual event is held. Dirk, his wife and her family had already arrived and were sitting around drinking coffee and munching donuts.
Bear with me while I go through this, but it’s important and you have to know who everyone was to fully appreciate how badly I screwed up.
Dirk married Karin. Karin’s sister Leeza lived across the street. Leeza was married and has 5 kids. In addition, they lived next door to Karin’s parents. So basically, you have the grandpa, grandma, 3 daughters, 1 son, 2 sons-in-law, 9 grandchildren, living within 200 feet of each other. Every weekend they’d get together and BBQ, they watched each other’s kids, they went shopping together, etc. They were and remain a very tight clan.
Back to the Garlic Festival. The day wore on, it got warmer and warmer and the group moved from coffee to beer (in my case, Jim Beam and Coke). Everyone was having a blast and watching the crowd when this gorgeous young babe walked up. Everyone greeted her and introduced me. Turns out she was the girlfriend of Leeza’s son Chad and had just turned 18. Well ain’t that sweet. As we were hanging out watching the tourists gorge themselves on garlicky goodness, someone said they heard there was a kissing contest later that day.
Yeah, I get the humor of a kissing contest at a garlic festival, and it was put on by “Sweet Breath”, the bad-breath drops people. The prize was $500 bucks, and who doesn’t want that? In my half-lit state, an idea started to crystallize and after it formed, I started chuckling. I knew how to win. I said as much to the clan and they all wanted to know how.
I told them and said that I knew I could win, but the only problem was I didn’t have a girl to do it with, since I’d only been there a week or so. Hot, newly-turned-18-year-old High School girl said, “I’ll do it with you. I can use the money. It will be fun.” I liked her instantly. Her attitude mirrored mine. Jump through every door right? Take every opportunity that presents itself and fun will ensue!
I would like to point out that at this time NO ONE OBJECTED! No one said, “War, that’s a stupid idea, and you can’t possibly think this will end well.” Nope, everyone was all for it. Even stranger, no one seemed to think that Chad would object to my making out with his 18-year-old girlfriend. In fact, his mother gave me the prop I needed to win.
I couldn’t believe my luck. I was about to make out with a Hottie, win 250 bucks, and my newly adopted family would think I was the coolest guy ever! What could go wrong?
Hottie and I decided we should probably practice, just so we didn’t look awkward. I’m not going to lie. It was my idea. Sure, it’s important to sell the idea but I was far more interested in the insanely hot girl straddling me and making out with me. We “practiced” for about an hour, and then we went to sign up.
People gave us all sorts of strange looks, since I was in my late 20′s and this chick looked pretty young, but we were holding hands and smiling at each other so it had to be legit, right? RIGHT?
We signed up and all that was left to do was wait. There were only about 10 entries, which kind of surprised me, since 500 bucks is 500 bucks, but it just made my odds better. First couple up was a pair of geezers. Damn, damn, damn. Old people get the “awwwwwww” vote every time. The next couple up was a pair of really good looking people. The girl was stunning and the guy looked like he stepped out of the pages of GQ.
It looked like a movie kiss. The bastards were going to screw up my perfect plan! I knew we were going to have to be perfect to win and as we sat waiting for the rest of the contestants to try their best, I realized we had a fighting chance. No one else did anything special. It was finally our shot and I took a deep breath and we stepped up.
I held her and, pulled her to me and we began to kiss, slowly at first, then more passionately until all of a sudden, Hottie pulled back in shock. You could see the judges trying to figure out what had just happened. She reached up into her mouth and pulled out an engagement ring.
Yep. Genius. She looked at me, then the ring, then back at me, then her eyes lit up and I said, “From the moment I met you, I knew there was something special about you and I want to be with you forever. Will you marry me?”
Well, she was supposed to say yes and then kiss me, but she improvised and just devoured me. The judges lost their shit. The crowd lost their shit. People were cheering and for a second I forgot it was all a lie. She pulled back and one of the judges said, “Well? What did she say?”
Hottie said, “YES!!!!” Everyone cheered a bit more, patted me on the back, hugged her, and we walked away. We had a few hours to wait until the kiss-off (the judges had to select 3 finalists) and decided the best thing to do was to stay in character. Yep. More “practicing”. I would like to point out that the ring that we used was donated by Chad’s MOM! So no one had any reason to be mad at me. They were all in on it.
We went back for the kiss-off, but it was a done deal. The judges told everyone what had happened and everyone cheered us again, then they presented us with the check for $500 and told us that if we wanted to, we could get married in 1 year at the next Garlic Festival! I felt a little guilty that they were so nice, so we smiled, said thanks, and bolted.
You know how you’re watching a movie and then they start playing some minor chords to let you know that everything isn’t really ok, that something bad is about to happen, and that the world as you know it is about to change? Yeah, I didn’t hear any of those, but I should have.
That night, we all trooped over to Leeza’s house and were eating dinner when her husband, AKA Chad’s dad came home. Now he had been absent throughout the day and was a bit uptight, but tonight he was bouncing off the walls.
“Guys, you won’t believe what happened at the Festival today! This guy proposed at the kissing contest by passing an engagement ring to the girl with his mouth!”
Utter silence. No one said a word.
He looked at all of us in confusion, then at his wife, who wouldn’t meet his gaze, at her parents, who were examining the ceiling, then at me. I shrugged. You could see the wheels turning in his head. There was this look of understanding that dawned and then he said, “War?” We all continued to exercise our 5th amendment rights and finally he said, “Who was the girl?” His wife said softly, “Hottie.”
So now, all the people who had cheered me on, provided me the props, and watched the whole thing go down threw me under the bus. See, there were a few things I didn’t know.
Chad was this guy’s pride and joy. My making out with the girlfriend wasn’t cool with the father. Actually, that’s a vast understatement. It was more like an unforgivable offense worthy of beheading. At least.
He was one of the main organizers of the garlic festival and they had already promoted this with the local paper. Hey, human interest story, right? Now he knew it was bullshit, it had happened with his son’s girlfriend with some reprobate who had just arrived in town.
No one told Chad prior to this going down. I just assumed Hottie would have mentioned it to him, just to give him a heads-up, out of respect. Nope. I brought this up to her later when we were having sex and she just said she didn’t know why she never called him.
So now I was the bad guy. Everyone started to backpedal wildly and say how they’d always thought it was a bad idea, how they’d had misgivings, and they were shocked, SHOCKED that I’d even think of doing such a horrible thing.
I pointed out that I’d even borrowed the ring from the Chad’s mom, but no one wanted to hear it so I bounced. Dirk met me about 10 minutes later and said that everyone was pissed as hell at me but that he and Karin thought it was hilarious.
I knew we had to cash the check early, so Hottie met me the next morning and by 9:05 we each had our $250. The paper that day had a blurb about us, but they were working off of old info, so we were still cool.
The father went back, told everyone it was a fake, at which point everyone involved hated me. I’d obviously taken advantage of this poor girl, cheated the system, and didn’t deserve the money, but since I’d already cashed the check, it was too late. Point of note: One judge said he was so impressed by my originality that he would have given me a higher score if he’d known at the time.
I was feeling pretty unloved, so when presented with the opportunity to further “practice” with the Hottie, I threw caution to the wind and went for it. We had a ton of fun, and then the Woodstock Times called and asked if they could do an interview with us. Sure, why not? Everyone hated me now anyway, I figured. I was wrong. For about a year after the article came out (front page, giant pic of the two of us) people would stop me and ask if I were the guy that cheated with the high school girl to win the kissing contest at the Garlic Festival.
Yes. Yes I was…
Epilogue
Right after this all went down, everyone was mad at her too. See, they all knew that they’d helped me, and although they had to be mad at me for family harmony, once things cooled down a bit, they knew that she bore an equal part of the blame. There was plenty of mad to go around. Chad was mad as hell since Hottie had embarrassed him and he was taking shit from all his friends, so he wasn’t talking to her. The parents were furious, the grandparents were appalled, so who was left? That would be me…
I was sympathetic and understanding and she started coming over after work to hang with me. Remember, the whole family lived within 200′ of my house so they saw her car there and saw it stay until around 2am. This did not endear me to them, but as I mentioned earlier, they were already mad, and she was ridiculously hot, so why not take advantage of the situation?
Up until this time, Hottie and I had just talked, but one day she came to me and asked me what I would do if I found out she were pregnant. See, that’s the advantage of dating young girls. The extra years of experience help you out.
Sometimes I do things I’m not very proud of.
I said that I thought she was awesome and I could see myself with her for many years to come, that it wouldn’t matter if she were pregnant from her 16-year-old boyfriend since we’d be together anyway. Let the sex commence!
See, I figured she thought she might be pregnant and thought she could seal the deal with me by throwing me a piece. I just had to say the right words. Which I did. But she was one of those girls who needs to feel like she isn’t bad, that she kind of just fell into the situation and that it really isn’t her fault. She was the exact opposite of Betty in this way.
Anyway, we started fooling around, things got hot and heavy, but she kept telling me that we shouldn’t do it, that it was wrong, that cheating was wrong, etc. I have to tell you, this is really tiresome. At this point, my job was to provide her with some excuse, some rationale that would allow her to bang my brains out guilt-free but frankly, I was tired of playing games.
I like things to be clear and unambiguous so I told her that if she wanted to stop right now, we’d stop. I told her that if she just wanted to be friends, that was cool too. And then I told her if she wanted to fuck, that she needed to bite down on the heel of my hand and if she did, I would know that all the things she said were bullshit and that anything else she said going forward I’d ignore, no matter what.
She grabbed my hand and bit down on the heel hard. That was my answer. The rest of the night was her telling me that I was raping her as she had her legs wrapped around me pulling me in, that there was nothing she could do to stop me, and that she was a horrible person for cheating on her boyfriend. All of this happened on the front lawn, in clear view of her boyfriend’s house, my house, and her boyfriend’s grandparents’ house. It was late, so we got away with it, and it was awesome.
Dirk finally approached me and told me that my actions were causing all sorts of trouble within the clan and I needed to knock it off if I wasn’t serious about her. I denied that anything had happened, naturally, but that didn’t matter. Hottie went back to Chad and high school and I moved on to greener pastures.
A year or so later she ended up being my maid and things picked up where they’d left off, but that’s a story for another day.
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What makes someone ‘out of your league’?
The sad truth is that you’re right. There are many girls out there WAY out of your league. They’re too pretty, too smart, too rich, too funny, and why the hell would that want you anyway? I mean, you really don’t have much to offer, so no point in even bothering. I mean, realistically just talking to them is going to end in rejection, and that’s painful and embarrassing. You are kinda chunky, you have that one crooked tooth, your hair is thinning, and you tend to stare at your feet a lot. You’d better just hide in your room.
Then again…
http://famouscouple.com/famous_couple-julia_roberts-lyle_lovett.htm
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What do you call it when several people come up with the same idea independently of each other?
If you have a good lawyer it’s called intellectual property theft.
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I just found my dream car on Craigslist for a mere four thousand dollars, but I don’t even have 1/4 of the necessary funds.
Offer him all you have. Set up payment plan. Tell him you will be his butler on weekends. Be creative you sorry motherfucker!!!! Go get your baby! She needs you!
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