It was the night before MLK day, 2005. I remember that, not because I’ve got such an enriched soul that I track memorial days of fallen human rights activists, but because I didn’t have to work the next day – a Monday. I was in Long Beach, visiting some friends of mine (probably having a barbecue party or something). Around 9pm, that shindig was winding down, so I decided to head home. As I hopped in my car, I remembered there was a girl I met recently at Bar Sinister — let’s call her “Vicki” — who lived out in Long Beach. She and I made plans in the past, but our schedules and locations always seemed to conflict. I figured it’d be worth a shot to just give her a call and see if maybe she had a free night. I got her voicemail, and made my way towards the freeway to go home. About 2 blocks before the freeway on-ramp, she called me back. I told her I was just about to hop on the freeway, but I’d gladly turn around if she wanted to hang. As luck would have it, she was down to hang. So, I turned around.
We met up at a small coffee shop. She was waiting for a friend of hers to arrive. I was a little bummed out about that, cause I thought it was just gonna be the two of us hanging out. Sure, she was waiting for a female friend, but this was still a year before my first proper MFF 1Male-Female-Female threesome – I was still of the mind that dudes like me didn’t have whatever charisma and swagger is required to convince two women to simultaneously make the mistake of getting naked with me. So, I was a bit bummed, as I said. She introduced her friend — let’s call her Amanda — and Amanda’s plan was “let’s get some booze and drink at Vicki’s place!”. Vicki asked if I was down for that plan, and… yeah, I was down for that. In my head, I thought “mmmmmaybe this is the night two chicks get drunk enough to play ‘out-blow one another’ on me!”. I drove us to the grocery store, they stocked up on their booze, and I grabbed a bottle of vodka and some soda for myself.
Back at Vicki’s pad – we took goofy photos of each other 2the header photo for this entry is one such photo : Vicki’s face is intentionally not visible in this crop, but that’s her, had some drinks, the girls danced around to some pop-goth jams, and I tried keeping the Charm-o-meter cranked up to 11. I should mention that Vicki was a 4’11” girl from a small, war-torn European country (y’know, like where Dracula comes from, for instance) and still had a pretty thick, soft-spoken accent. Amanda was a wild blonde valley-girl type. Amanda said something to Vicki that I either didn’t understand, or didn’t hear, and Vicki said “ohh… I don’t know… you think we should?”. She then turned to me and said “Meeetcz… do you… do cocaine?”. I said “nope. never have. never wanted to. But… you’re free to do what you want, no judgment here”. Amanda got bouncy on the bed “c’mon Vicki! let’s get some coke!”. Vicki demurred, using my unwillingness to take part as an easy out. She’d later say “I’m glad you didn’t want coke – that would’ve gotten really out of control. Amanda is a mess on coke”.
We partied for a bit more, when Vicki stood up and said “c’mon, then. It’s bedtime. Meeetcz… are you staying the night?”. I was sure I was on the express train to threesomeville now. I acted like I was mulling it over, trying not to sound too eager, but finally relented. The girls did a “yay! sleepover” cheer and ran off to get into their “jammies”. Their jammies were : over-sized shirt, no bra, sweatpants. Fuck yeah.
They had me lying in the middle at first. Amanda mentioned at some point that she wanted a back rub. Vicki said “why don’t you give her a backrub, Meeeetcz?”. I calmly climbed atop Amanda and started in on a backrub. She said “oh Vicki, you’ve gotta try this!”. Vicki said “okay, okay.. me next”. Amanda then said “okay, Mitcz, you lie down and I’ll give you a backrub and you give Vicki a backrub”. We had a backrub train going. Not quite the train to threesomeville, but maybe it’s the scenic route. Then, Amanda climbed on the back of Vicki to give her a backrub directly. I was now on the edge of the bed, just lying down. When Amanda finished rubbing Vicki’s back, she rolled over to the other side. So, from left-to-right (right being the edge of the bed, left being the wall) it was : Amanda, Vicki, Me. I was facing towards Vicki’s back, and she put my arm around her waist, and reached her hand over her head to kinda caress my head.
I began falling asleep. About 10 minutes later, I was awoken by Amanda saying “ugh. this is bullshit”. Vicki said “Amanda… go back to bed”. Amanda just sat up in the bed, kinda whispering to herself and huffing and puffing about — sounding frustrated in that loud, dramatic way that loud, dramatic people do. I ignored her, and went back to sleep. I woke up again some time later — maybe 30 minutes later — and I was facing out towards the living room. There was a single light on in the corner, and Amanda was sneaking around in the living room. I mean, she was like tip-toeing around. I heard Amanda’s voice behind me, saying “Vicki… no. No, Vicki… please just come back to bed”. Vicki ignored her. Amanda said it again a minute later “please, Vicki… don’t do this… please don’t do this”. Vicki opened the drawer of a dresser against the wall 3both the bed and the dresser can be seen in the header photo for this entry – it was a studio apartment, and started rooting around in there, occasionally peeking back towards the bed. Amanda’s whispering got a little louder this time : “Viiiickiii…. please, not this time. I don’t want to do this again”.
Now, I’m not a paranoid person, but I have a tendency to think really weird thoughts and then psyche myself out. In this moment, lying on that bed, I became concerned. What was Vicki doing in that dresser? She didn’t appear to be looking for anything. She looked like she was assembling something. Her arms didn’t move much, but I could tell through one half-opened eye, that her hands were moving quite a lot. She kept checking around behind her, looking at me a few times. But, what was Amanda talking about? Did she know what Vicki was doing? I started thinking “wait a minute… maybe Vicki lures men into her home and kills them in their sleep. Maybe she’s putting together a silencer. Or a drug concoction into a needle”. After all : no one knew I was at this girl’s place, except these two girls. None of my friends had ever met either of them, I hadn’t contacted Nad (my roommate at the time) prior to coming over, and I didn’t tell my friends whose house I left, because this was a plan that came together after I left. If I went missing, the trail would lead nowhere. I decided I needed to at least alert Nad, just in case.
I stood up, grabbed my pants, said “I uhh… need a cigarette”, and walked outside. I called Nad. It was probably 4-5am at this point. He answered, and I said “listen… I’m at this girl’s house. Her name is Vicki… fuck, I don’t know her last name. But… something fucking weird is going on inside and I just have a bad feeling. If you don’t hear from me by noon – call the cops and send them to this address…” and I read off street signs and the apartment number for Vicki’s apartment. He laughed, and wondered why I wouldn’t just jump in my car right then instead. As I began to answer him, he said “no, no, I know. There’s a chance you might get laid so you’re gonna risk it”. He knew me all too well.
I went back inside, Amanda was packing up her clothes, Vicki was sitting on the bed. Silent, just annoyed. Amanda left. Vicki said “okay.. I’m sleeping now. You want to sleep?”. I hopped in bed, and we fell asleep cuddling. I woke up a few hours later, with the morning light shining in, and we were still cuddled up. She woke up a few minutes later, turned her head, and we started making out. I had put out of my head whatever the hell I saw hours earlier, and just went with the makeout. I got up to have a cigarette, and when I came back, I kept my pants on. It seemed weird to take them off when I came back in, so I just kept them on. I laid down on the bed again, and Vicki heard a crinkling noise in my pants. She said “what is that?”. I said “ohh… condoms. I always carry two condoms with me”. She said “really? let me see”. I pulled a condom out of the knee-high pocket (I wore cargo pants a lot back then) and handed it to her. She said “you want to have sex?”, I said “sure”, and she took off her shirt to reveal one of the greatest sets of titties I’ve ever seen.
She got on top, and slowly backed herself onto me. I pushed up into her, and she laughed, and said “no… no…”, she was smiling “…don’t push back”. She had her finger in my face, like I was a bad dog. She slowly backed onto me a bit more, and I jokingly pushed up a little bit. She said “come on now… let me do my thing”. I let her do her thing. She started getting into it, but kept it to shallow grinding. I got a bit frustrated, and almost subconsciously pushed up into her, she gave me a light slap in the face and laughed “no push”. I said “now, now, don’t go hittin’ me”. She laughed really hard – “oh? no hit?” – and gave me a little harder smack in the face. I said “you do it again, I might slap back”. She said “oh really” and WHAM! punched me across the cheek. In a quick-reflex, my hand flew up and slapped her cheek. She laughed again, and said “oooh… that was a good one”, and went to punch me again. I grabbed both of her arms, and held them together in one of my hands. We fucked for a few more minutes in this mexican-standoff position, before she dismounted, put on clothes, and said “let’s get breakfast” — and we went out for breakfast before I drove home, confused but pleased.
I hung out with her a few more times after that, but never for very long, and we never hooked up again. She’s married and has a child now. Over the past 10 years, I’ve asked her about this night almost every time we talk. I say “what was in that dresser? what was up with Amanda?”. All I’ve ever gotten was “Amanda was crazy, and she had a crush on me. I guess she was jealous that your arm was on me”. As for the dresser, she just laughs and shrugs her shoulders.
What the fuck.
Footnotes [ + ]
|2.||↩||the header photo for this entry is one such photo : Vicki’s face is intentionally not visible in this crop, but that’s her|
|3.||↩||both the bed and the dresser can be seen in the header photo for this entry – it was a studio apartment|