Quote:
Originally posted by Atticus Grinch
"Oh, he is, Sally," Encyclopedia said. "But Penske sure slipped up this time. His story is as transparent as a Matisse stained glass."
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MERDE!
Hoisted onto my petard by the childhood memory I hold most dear, good old Leroy Brown’s alterego, Encyclopedia. In my youth, when I was young, growing up on a dairy farm in upstate Vermont, I spent many long nights huddled under my covers in my bedroom after “lights out” time with a cigarette lighter to illuminate the pages of such classics as Encyclopedia Brown Takes the Case and Encyclopedia Brown and the Pretty Pony et al. His daring-do and cat-like smarts in outwitting Idaville’s resident punkass bastard Bugs Meany, emboldened me in my daily battles with the local bullies. Although, ironically in a paradoxical way, I usually got my arse kicked and ended up in tears tied to my mother’s apron.
Anyhoo, this whole exercise reminds of my fatal weakness for attention to detail. But for a few missteps I would have sold you fools on my Picasso story and enshrined myself as an artworld dilettante of the first order for all history. It reminds me of the tragic start to my freshman year at Wellesley College. My roommate was from Chicago or some collar suburb of the same. A guy named Hillary. Apparently his parents were big mountain climbing fans. I arrived to find that he had taken the top bunk and hung multiple posters of WHAM! and Madonna all over the walls. Instead of feng shui, I was staring at feng shit!
Of course it went downhill from there and after a couple of weeks I went to the R.A. and made a false claim of sexual harassment, i.e. I caught Hillary peeping at me in the shower while I was shaving my legs, in order to get him expelled from the dorm. Well, the R.A. called for an intervention and twelve steps later a bunch of us were sitting around in easy chairs in the dorm TV Lounge discussing the “issues”. It was me, Hillary, the R.A., and Hillary’s nubile young girlfriend, Sue, from his homeland, a senior in H.S. at New Trier, who was visiting from the greater Chicago area that weekend. After several bottles of Louis Jadot Beaujolais and a hunk of some tasty brie we all became a bit more relaxed and decided that maybe this roommate thing was okay after all. At that point the R.A. left. A few bottles of wine later Hillary announced very ceremoniously albeit with severely slurred speech that he taking our leave to vomit. He left and as we could best piece together after the fact passed out in the loo on the fifth floor (we were on the ground floor-don’t ask).
Anyhoo, you know where this is going, a dozen bottles of French wine and fine piece of barely legal tail combined with the raging hormones of youth…….bingo. Young master Hillary scarcely had dipped his head into the bowl before Sue and I had our clothes off and were going at it like a couple of bobcats in heat. At the moment of truth I pulled out my trusty lucky condom that had been in my wallet since sophomore year in H.S. (BS motto: Be Prepared!) and Sue slipped it on for me, which was a very erotic gesture for a 17 y.o., boc, for me it was a mite too erotic. Game, set and match before I even entered the court.
Sue held me while I cried and told me it was okay, it happens to all guys, but I knew, in reality she thought I was a loser. Eventually she went off to find Hillary. For some inexplicable reason, probably the wine, I took off the condom and slammed it down into the remaining wheel of brie, which made me laugh. Then I picked up the condom and cheese mess, packed it into a ball shape and hurled it at the wall.
The next morning when Hillary, despite the hangover, got up before us and went down to the TV Lounge to watch Davey and Goliath, he saw the cheeseball on the wall, but worse, he saw the (sort of but not really) used condom sticking out of it.
BUSTED!
Thus ended the great roommate rapprochement of 1977. Years later I heard from a mutual acquaintance that Hillary and Sue got married and had a set of triplets and were living on the north shore north of Chicago. He retired from commodities trading at the age of 32 and was a philanthropist of sorts. I still have fond memories of her fine teenage breasts and what almost was.
Que sera sera.
