Monday, May 24, 2010


And so, at last, we come to Sheila. Chronologically we were close to the same age. I may even have been a year or two older. But in terms of life experience, Sheila was two or three times my age.

Sheila was divorced and had a kid I never met. She worked as a nurse assistant and lived at home with her mother, a little black cock-a-poo, and her younger brother in a house just off North Broadway. The brother was still in high school--Bryan Station, where Sheila had graduated.

We started going out. Turns out we had absolutely nothing in common and even less to talk about. Sheila lived in the real world with duties and responsibilities. I was footloose and fancy free. But hey, we got along and she thought I was cute.

Mom didn't care for her--at all. Dad thought Sheila was cute. They both thought she was a little trashy. I suspect the divorced thing put them off. Lord knows it couldn't have been her frosted hair, sky blue eye shadow or frosted-pink lipstick.

Dating a divorced woman really ratcheted up expectations. Faking experience would be impossible. She'd done it before...lots of times...even had a kid. I figured honesty was the best policy. I confessed to being a virgin.

She told a friend, who told another friend. Before long everyone at Saint Joseph Hospital knew. I didn't know whether to be proud or embarrassed.

Connie was an African-American nursing assistant who worked on the same floor as Sheila. Connie enjoyed few things more than teasing me about my virginity. She said she'd break me in herself but thought a white girl should do the job since I was too delicate for the likes of her.

One night Sheila invited me inside after our night out. The dog greeted us at the door. Mom and little brother apparently slept elsewhere in the house. The kid was off with baby-daddy.

We were making out on the couch when Sheila said we needed to talk. She explained that as a former married lady, she had certain needs. Our heavy petting was making it harder rather than easier to live with those needs. We needed to do

Who was I to argue? She slipped out of her clothes, laid down on the living room floor and motioned for me to join her. I heard Mom snoring in the next room.

I slid down onto the floor and into her arms. We started kissing and somehow, she got me out of my clothes. Things were getting hot when I felt the dog licking my butt. Sheila put her hand over my mouth to quieten my scream and kicked the dog away.

Two minutes later it was over. Wouldn't have lasted that long but we got distracted fighting off the dog. Sex was good, and I liked it...a lot. Three minutes later, little brother came out of his bedroom and asked if we wanted to smoke a joint. We passed.

Over the next few weeks we had sex a lot. I remember one particularly wild night in a room so dark I still don't know for sure what happened. A few weeks later Sheila dumped me. She felt like I was only interested in sex.


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