Nipplegasm

But I can't help from a-thinking to myself, that girl's fine looking, man. She's Something Else!

Eddie Cochran.

April 1984.

Southern California.

"Why are you so nervous, Ray? Alice clearly loves you."

My new roommate Nick tried to be helpful, but it wasn't so clear to me. And even if Alice did love me, I had a whole Fistful Of Fail waiting to mess it up.

I fiddled with my guitar amplifier in our dining room that served as a music studio. We had an hour before Alice was due to arrive for our second date, enough time for a quick rehearsal. "Nick, Alice is... complicated. Really reserved. Before our first date last week, I honestly had no idea she was into me. Then, I thought for sure we would fuck when she invited me into her place, but Alice didn't want to go that far. We just made out in her bed all night."

He sat at the drum kit and scratched his short dark blonde hair. "Really? When you introduced Alice to me the next day, she couldn't keep her eyes off you. But I gotta say, she really doesn't seem like your type. Not at all what I expected."

"Alice is not what I expected." Nick probably won't be the last one to say that...

He went on. "I don't just mean how good-looking she is. Alice is more... classy than the girls you seem to go for. Are you worried she'll change her mind once she gets to know you?"

I shook my head. "Not really. We were neighbors and friends for almost a year, Nick. Alice knows what I'm like."

He taunted, "So, she saw all those sluts from your restaurant who came to your apartment? Does she know your ex-girlfriend Rachel was still in high school?"

Despite giving it a good kick, my ancient Fender Super Reverb refused to power on. "Yes, and yes. Rachel chatted with her a couple of times, and Alice even met one of the women I cheated on Rachel with. However, I didn't have any girls over since January, and Alice knows I broke up with Rachel last October. And, I'll have you know, not every girl who... uhh, visited, was an employee of mine."

A few were their friends or sisters...

Nick scoffed, "Well, there you have it. You've been a shining model of integrity for a few months! Congratulations, Ray."

I preened, then sighed. "Damnit, Nick. Maybe I should have pushed Alice harder. What if I don't get another chance to fuck her?"

Nick nudged a duct-taped, extension cord-laden power strip with his foot, then my recalcitrant fifty-watt amp's indicator light glowed a healthy orange. "Ray, Alice probably wants to be sure she can trust you. Give it some time and show her she's not just a booty call to you."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. It's hard for me, Nick. She's so fucking hot, and I've... uhh... fantasized about Alice. I'm dying to bang her, but I don't want to blow it. She is, you know..."

Nick gave me a drum roll, then finished my sentence. "Special. Of course, she's special, just like the other fifty women you said were special. Ray, you're such a cretin!"

"You're not wrong, Nick. But I'm also worried that Alice will think I'm too immature. She's twenty-seven, four years older than me."

"Really? I didn't realize she was that old. You know, Alice looks just like the brunette in that movie we saw last month, "Blame It On Rio."

I nodded. "Demi Moore. That's funny, because the first time I saw Alice a year ago, I thought the same thing. But yeah, she's much more mature than me. I need to grow up."

"Grow up? Sure, Ray. Look, you're not that bad. You've got a decent job, no debt, arrest record or addictions, and you moved out of your parents' home a couple of years ago. That's more than a lot of guys our age can say. Your cars, on the other hand..."

As if confirming the notion, I launched into our version of Eddie Cochran's 1959 hit, Something Else. I had changed the lyrics to make it an ode to hypersexual Rachel and my topless, black-with-flames 1970 Ford Thunderbird hotrod.

"She don't notice me, when I pass. Everybody whistles at her big fine ass...

Looky here! Across the street! There's a T-bird just for me... It does great burnouts and it's really fast... It's Something Else!"

The song ended with a metal-style guitar solo, then I frowned to myself.

Hmm. The song fits Alice. She really is Something Else, though she probably won't appreciate my T-bird. Good thing it's still parked at Nick's brother's house...

Nick set down his sticks and yawned. "Alright, Ray. Trish asked me to give her a ride home from work. Mind if I borrow your Riviera and you take my truck? The carport at her apartment is too low for the camper shell, and last time I had to park on the street."

In a reversed image of my dating choices, Nick preferred nice, pretty, demure girls from his church, yet trashy and dumpy bowling alley bartender Trish had inexplicably captured at least some of his hardened heart.

And his hardened bone, heh...

I fought back an urge to tease Nick about it, figuring he wouldn't be with her for very long. We exchanged keys. "Alright, Nick. See you later. Tell Trish thanks for the free drinks last week."

"Heh. She got in trouble for that. Bye, Ray. Maybe I'll see you and Alice when you get back from the movie?"

I high fived him. "I think she's spending the night here, so, yeah."

He peeled out into the street, leaving twin strips of rubber and shaking the windows of our rented two-bedroom house. My 1972 Buick Riviera's barely muffled, modified 455 engine remained audible until Nick drifted a left turn at the end of our long suburban block.

I love that car. Alice didn't seem to mind it either...

Because I knew Nick all too well, I checked the fuel level of his 1975 GMC Sierra pickup.

Fucking Nick. Only one eighth of a tank, barely enough to make it to the theater and back. Maybe. Damnit, if it was anyone else but Alice, I'd risk it. Shit. She'll be here any minute. I'll have to put a gallon in after the movie. Ahh, well. Such are the games we play...

Thanks for reading, don't forget to vote and comment!