Wednesday, 23 February 2011

I Know What Boys Like

Many years ago, right out of college, I was a bit of a femme fatale. I didn't think of myself as one, but I seemed to go through men just because I could. I had a "flavor of the week" because, well, my first relationship lasted five years, and, in retrospect, it seemed like I was trying to make up for all the flavors I'd "missed out on" in high school and most of college. This flavor of the week attitude could get me in pretty hairy situations. Well, not "hairy," although I didn't shave my legs (nor did I wear make up or do my hair at that time, so I'm not sure how I attracted them if you go by what the media projects as sexy), yet I still attracted men if not in droves at least enough to keep me in a new man a week if I wanted. (g) And I kind of wanted, you know. So many flavors after all. (g) I didn't sleep with all of them. Many of them didn't make it past the first or second date, but I digress.

I'm long past those days--left them behind by the age of 23--but I can still look back at that time and laugh at some of those situations. One in particular was, um, shall we say interesting. Something you'd expect to see in a movie or sitcom, but never in real life. (g)

You see, right after college, I really didn't know what I wanted to do. Yeah, I wanted to be a famous actress/singer, but I wasn't quite ready to start that path, so I took my backpack and my meager savings ($3000) and went to Europe for five and a half months. (This is when it was still safe for a young woman to travel alone through Europe.)

I stayed in youth hostels, with friends of friends of the family, exes of friends of the family, and so on. It was fun.

Because I went alone, I met some pretty interesting people. I got hit on...a lot, not all of them welcome either. There was this one creepy dude in the Zurich train station who tried to convince me that the European way of saying goodbye to perfect strangers was to kiss them on both cheeks. Well, I didn't care. He was a creepy dude, and I wasn't allowing any creepy dude to get that close to me. I managed to ditch him quick.

Believe it or not, most of the people I met were nice and harmless. I did some stupid shit while there, too, like hitchhiking and hiking alone in remote places, so my guardian angel was working overtime. (g) However, if that little voice told me to do something, I always did it. Always. Thank you, little voice. (g)

While over there, I met a few different men, two of which are the subject of this particular tale. Marc was a sweet young man from the French part of Switzerland, and Peter was a French Canadian visiting France. I met them a month or so apart. Both were sweet, and both liked me. They liked me a lot. More than a lot, I later found out. I liked them a lot, too. One could even say I loved them... in a fashion.

I was young. And I wasn't really ready for the permanent kind of love. Heck, I'd only been out of a long-term relationship for less than a year. They were an interesting flavor to explore, although I didn't at that point. (Perhaps that's why they were all hot and heavy to see me again. LOL) Upon parting with both of them, I, being the friendly and open kind of gal that I am, invited them to come visit...any time.

Yeah, uh, just a word of advice, don't do that. Or, at least, be specific about when they can come to visit. If you don't, don't say I didn't warn you.

So, several months after I've returned to the States and I'm settled in Los Angeles, Peter, the French Canadian, and I have been chatting a lot via the phone, and he's coming out to visit me for a week. I'm excited. By this time, I'm in love...

Until I get a letter from Marc. Marc, who only speaks French, is coming to visit a few days before Peter's visit ends. My plan was to drop Peter off at the airport and have a friend keep Marc occupied for a few days with neither being the wiser. (g) As she spoke French, it wasn't a problem.

Well, that was the plan, except--of course, there was an except--Peter and I were driving down from San Francisco, and we missed his plane and he couldn't get another flight out for a couple of days. He didn't really want to go back right then anyway, but me? Me, I was thinking, "Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!"

And while they were from two different countries, both spoke French.

Double shit!

I didn't really have any options. I had to take Peter back with me to my place. My tiny, little guesthouse where Marc waited for


That guesthouse consisted of a room (just large enough for a queen-size bed, an armoire, and a chair), a small kitchenette (half fridge, a hot plate, a toaster oven, and cupboards), and a three-quarter bath. There was enough room in the main room for someone to sleep on the floor. So, who do you think will sleep there?

No one.

That's right. The three of us slept in that bed (with me in the middle) for the next two nights. Nothing happened. It didn't occur to me to do anything. And, honestly, I don't think either of them would have wanted that. (g)

It was awkward, to say the least.


And because I didn't want to leave the two of them alone any longer than I had to, I even took them with me to my acting class one day.


My acting teacher and classmates never viewed me the same way again.


I'm sorry. It still makes me laugh.

So, um, do you have any youthful indiscretions that make you laugh?


Dee Julian said...

Eyes staring at page...jaw dropped...mouth wide open.
Wow, Marci! You lived the life I fantasized about. I salute you!

Adrianne Brennan said...

LOL! Loved this story, Marci. You've definitely led an interesting life!

Anthology Authors said...

HAHAHAHAHA, Dee. I don't live that life any more. It was fun and interesting, but definitely for the young. (g)

Anthology Authors said...

I did at one point, Adrianne. Now, I'm the typical mom. Okay, maybe not typical, but certainly not nearly as exciting. (g)

Jaime Samms said...

Seems I should be more surprised by that, but I'm really not. i think everyone should have at least one of those stories to tell.

I had a really good friend in college who was...thinks of a delicate way to put his...a slut. But he and I got on famously. I was a serial monogamist at the time, dating a few of his friends, one at a time, so seemed like we were always the last ones up at parties watching silly infomercials and giggling.

Of course the day came when I wasn't dating anyone and he hadn't scored at the bar. He actually seemed hurt when I told him it was a no strings attached one-nighter. Well. They were all no strings attached one-nighters. Guess I was the last person he thought would make a good f***buddy. or he was terrified I was going to go psycho on him and boil his rabbit. Who knows? It was college. It was fun. and I have fond memories.

Anthology Authors said...

Well, I was pretty much a monogamist. If I was dating someone, even if it was only for a week, I didn't see anyone else. (g)

It sounds like you had a similar situation with that guy as I did with another. He was my neighbor my senior year in college. He was a notorious womanizer. I had only known one guy at that time. There'd always been an attraction between us, but, you know, I'd been taken. And while he did go through a lot of women, he never dated more than one woman at a time. Anyway, we finally hooked up about three months before graduation. By this time, I'd already planned the Europe trip, so I told him that once we graduated, that was it.


He later told me that he'd never expected us to last that long. (g) He was a really sweet guy. When I left, he was the one who wanted me to stay. He wrote some really sweet letters to me while I was in Europe. I'll always remember him fondly. :)

Jaime Samms said...

Looking back, the funniest thing is we did all the things dating couples do. Skating in the park, movie nights, even cooked one another dinner more than once. But never even for a second did either one of us consider that we were a couple. I've never wished for it to be anything other than what it was. I think he was probably my one sane moment through all of college. lol!

Fiona McGier said...

My saying used to be, "So many men, so little time!" Sampling was my game! In high school there was the father of my friend's boyfriend, then both of the sons...the college professor...the big group of friends that I worked my way through, almost marrying the last one...
My husband of almost 30 years told me when we got serious that he didn't care how many had been before him, as long as there were none after him. That freed me from having to give an estimate... boy, was I ever relieved! ;-D

Anthology Authors said...

You guys had a great friendship, Jaime. That's a rare thing between a man and a woman because usually one of them has an ulterior motive. (g) Most often, it's the man. (g)

Anthology Authors said...

Ah, Fiona, that was kind of my view for a while there. I definitely slowed down as I got older (and pickier). LOL Fortunately, I husband didn't care about before either. He's only interested in the now, and I'm not interested in anyone but him. :)

Natalie Dae said...

Well, well, well! For the first time, Ms. Baun, you've surprised me. I sat here wide-eyed! You saucy little minx!



Anthology Authors said...

(g) Sarah, all of us have our moments, I think. If we don't, we haven't really lived. Okay. Well, we have lived, but surely all of us did stupid things in our youth. ;)

Faith said...

What attracted the guys to you even tho no makeup and no shaving of legs? Oh, come on, hon! Do you remember what I said about that one wedding pic of yours? No? Beautiful pic straight out of Greek mythology, my friend. That's a pic that should be hung in a museum. Beautiful!

Anthology Authors said...

Ah, thanks, Faith! Honestly, I think it's more that I'm friendly. Peter told me that when he first met me, he thought I was hitting on him until he realized that's just how I am. I laughed for several minutes. He did not find that funny. (g)

Then again, it could be my stunning beauty. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA