The Secret Life Of A Straight-Edge II

Read part 1 here.

Let me recap the scene for you.

I, a completely sober and typical college ‘nice guy’ Geek, am the designated driver for a college drinking party. During this party two very beautiful girls get so drunk that they are actually evicted from said college party for being too drunk to stand up under their own power. While driving them back to the dorms in my 4-speed, 2-door, hatchback Dodge Omni of Virginity the girl in the front seat tells me she wants to thank me for being so nice by giving me a bj and the girl in the back seat decides to combat the warm spring night’s heat by stripping off all her clothes.

What follows is proof positive that my life is cursed.

Now, because of Front Seat Girls’ (FSG) declaration of my immanent “Happy Ending” my mind had understandably stopped functioning properly, so the only reason I knew Back Seat Girl (BSG) was stripping was that she threw her bra at me. Not being aerodynamically designed for drunken flight, BSG’s bra missed me but did manage to get stuck on my rearview mirror. This caused FSG to start laughing again which in turn caused my brain to register the fact that I was now driving at a ridiculously fast speed down a residential street known as a speed-trap for the cops. I quickly downshifted from third gear to second thinking that as soon as I reached a safer speed I would remove the bra from my rearview mirror so the local police wouldn’t pull me over for indecent exposure or something.

That was mistake number one.

That’s because as soon as I put my hand on the gear shift, which as anyone who has ever driven a manual car will attest is located between the driver and passenger seats, FSG leaned over and started trying to undo my pants. This had two immediate and very different consequences. First, my right arm was now pinned underneath FSG’s body making it impossible for me to change gears and second, my libido started screaming at the top of its metaphorical lungs at my rational brain while my rational brain tried its darndest to keep me on the path of righteousness. The gist of this conversation can be summed up as follows:

“Thankyougod! We’re going to get some!”
“Ohmygod! We’re going to die!”
“Thankyougod!”
“Ohmygod!”
“Dammit! Don’t be such a baby! We’re not going to die when we’re only going 45mph down a completely empty street at 2am!”
“OK, maybe not, but I can’t shift gears so when we need to make a turn…”
“You were planning on making turns with FSG’s head in your lap?”
“What? What do you mean… Hey! Will you look at that? FSG’s got her head in my lap!”
“Yeah, and if you sit still a bit longer she’ll do something even better.”
“Woah! You know, driving a stick-shift with only one hand free and a girls head in your lap may not be the smartest of things to do…”
“But it’ll sure be fun!”
“Wait! They’re both drunk and I’m sure they’ll feel horrible about all this in the morning, so we should stop this before it goes any further.”
“Pansy! Loser! Moron!”
“Shut up!”
“FSG’s got her face in your lap and her hands on your belt and you’re going to tell us to stop?!”
“Well, it’s the right thing to do…”
“And BSG’s nearly naked in the back seat!”
“What?! When did that happen?”
“Where the heck did you think that bra came from? The Boobie Fairy?”
“Uh…”
“Think, you idiot! THINK! What happens in all those movies we see that start off this way?”
“Uhm… we’ll all be hunted down by a psychotic killer until the last one alive blows him up or sets him on fire and he sinks to the bottom of a creepy lake?”
“Nonono! The other movies.”
“Uhm… we’ll all go back to their room and…”
“And…?”
“Oh. OH!”
“That’s right, man! Threesome!”
“Holy crap, what was I thinking?! Stop this?! Let’s get this party started!”
“Thankyougod!”
“Hallelujah!”

So, one of my hands was trapped underneath FSG, who by this time is done with my belt and was now working on my zipper, and BSG was nearly completely naked except for her miniskirt and panties. Well, I guess BSG was still hot because not a moment later her miniskirt was gone. Poof, gone. Just like that. I’m not positive, but I believe she actually threw it out the window, along with her shirt. I say I’m not positive because, while she was becoming one with nature, FSG managed to unzip my fly and expose my bulging tighty-whities to the world which had my libido screaming, “Free at last! Free at last! Thank god almighty, we’re free at last!”

Which I guess was just blasphemous enough to piss someone off.

You see, now that my tighty-whities were exposed I was at the complete mercy of any higher being that might have been watching me, and as we all know higher beings have a very low sense of humor. So, at the exact moment that my pants came undone FSG froze like a frightened deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi and said, “I feel funny.”

Oh. Crap.

To be continued…