Instagram
 
I don’t remember how I actually met Sears. I assume it was at some sort of  over-crowded, under-stocked keg party that got broken up by the cops an hour into it. Such was the dark time before we all had fake ID’s. At any rate, Sears was a year older than I was and still living in the dorms. Which should have been all I needed to know about Sears.

Now, he’s a good looking guy – but Sears was full of himself in a way only an intramural lacrosse player who piqued in high school can be. He could talk for three hours about himself uninterrupted. I know, because he did it to me twice.

Perhaps the most fascinating thing to me about Sears was how fucking proud he was of his summer job. At any and all given opportunities, this kid would ramble on about how he got paid $9.75 an hour plus commission at a high end department store. And I mean, don’t get me wrong: that’s great for a fucking twenty-one year old, but like shut the fuck up about it. No one cares about how much commission you make peddling ties in the men’s department. I don’t care if it’s thirty grand a quarter: nobody fucking cares. Especially when you’re still living in the dorms and have no car. Like, what fucking good are you?! Exactly: none.

 So Sears and I began hooking up – and by hooking up I mean making out for a painfully long time, me finally unbuttoning his pants and giving him head, and subsequently him falling asleep in my bed as I crawled into bed with Hurricane. At this point in my sexual career, I was not interested in making out for hours since that is fucking disgusting and boring. I was also not interested in over-the-shirt action paired with a seldom-made clumsy effort to unhook my bra – which always resulted in my doing it for him. And I was certainly not interested in blowing this guy with no reciprocal. Needless to say, this only went on for about three days until I finally lost my patience.

“What’s the deal.” I demanded one night after I had been laying there pants unzipped, making out with Sears for like twenty minutes.

“What do you mean, what’s the deal?” he replied idiotically. I immediately began re-dressing.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THE FUCKING DEAL? Are we going to have sex or what? Like, this is fucking boring for me – if you want a girl who’s satisfied with light nipple play just let me know – I can refer you. I need something a little more intense.”

Up until that point in his life, I don’t think anyone had ever challenged Sears’ opinion of himself. He obviously thought he had life down pat and the rest of us were just supposed to eat it all up. I know no one had ever called him out because he just went silent, turned bright red, and had nothing to say.

“Like, don’t get me wrong – this is fun. But I’m not looking for a boyfriend, I’m looking for a fuck buddy. If you’re a virgin, I can respect that – but I mean, I’m just not in a place in my life to deal with that.” I was trying to be nice. But I had a phone book full of at least three guys who came when I called and I didn’t need this bullshit.

“I don’t want a girlfriend either.” Sears scoffed.

“Okay, great! So we’re on the same page!” I said sarcastically. “I mean don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love it when you come in my mouth every night and then don’t go down on me or even fuck me – but finals are coming up and I really don’t have fucking time for it.”

“You can be such a FUCKING bitch sometimes.” He got up, stalked out of my room and slammed the door behind him.

I shrugged, and texted Favorite – who, within two hours had handled his business and mine. And then mine again.

 I assumed that after that little tiff, I wouldn’t have to spend any more time with Sears, which was excellent since he was annoying the fuck out of all my friends. I didn’t text him, nor did he text me – I avoided him in the hallways by taking the fire exits, and all was well. Until about a week later.

“I’m really sorry about the other day – I may have overreacted. I’m kind of getting out of a bad relationship, and you really just touched a nerve. Will you come get breakfast with me tomorrow?” The text came at about six p.m., so I assumed he was sober.

“I don’t eat breakfast. And I especially don’t eat breakfast in the fucking food court. Thanks anyways.” I retorted.

“Please, please, please, please, haveitoldyouaboutmysummerjobitssocool, please please, etc. etc.” This went on for, like, twenty more text messages.

“I really want you to meet my friends – they’ve heard so much about you and I just want to try and make things right.” He was seriously out of his mind. So, in a moment of weakness, I agreed to meet him at his room at 8 the next morning and have breakfast with his buddies.

If you know me, you know that me getting up before eleven a.m. on a school day at any point in college was totally out of the question. As was eating breakfast in general, and most especially with strangers. To this day, I can’t believe I agreed to this scenario and furthermore, that I actually did show up the next day.

I knocked on the door at 8 – exactly on time. Of course, Sears was still fucking sleeping so I had to sit there awkwardly while he got dressed and then – get this – tried to hold my fucking hand – as we walked the four flights down to the food court.

Breakfast was fun – his friends were way cooler than him. I wound up staying drinking buddies with at least one of them for the remainder of undergrad. All in all, I was glad I went.

After breakfast, I had the entire day open. Sears had class at two, so he suggested we go back to my room to “watch a movie”. I was still a little naïve at this point, so I kind of assumed he had turned around on the whole sex thing and he was finally ready to get the fuck over it and do me.

How wrong I was.

We started the usual routine – making out (which he obviously thought he was really good at – but I mean even the most talented kisser is still not that great to make out with) followed by some light groping. I played along, assuming there was a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

“I have a surprise for you.” He whispered, grinning.

Sears started unbuttoning his pants, and off they came. Then, he removed his boxers so that he was just laying in my bed – shirt on - bottom half totally naked. I was still fully clothed and he had made no effort to change that.

“Do you like it? I did it just for you.” He whispered again.

Nervous, I glanced down – and didn’t really notice anything different.

“Did what?” I murmured – trying not to ruin the moment.

“Can’t you tell? I trimmed – so it’d be easier for you.”

The realization came crashing over me that Sears had completely shaven his entire area. Totally bald, with intermittent razor burn.

“So let me get this straight: you think I was annoyed about giving you head because of your fucking PUBIC HAIR?”

Sears looked shocked.

“Are you a fucking idiot? Do you think girls just like going down on you without any kind of reciprocity? Like, I don’t fucking care if you have a full bush – I want to have an orgasm and sucking your fucking dick doesn’t do it for me.”

Sears looked shocked. Which in itself was shocking because: did he really think that this was going to solve the problem?

“Get out of my room.” I demanded. Which he did, promptly.

That night, we all went out, and I wound up running into Sears and his group of friends at some party. As I said, his friends were pretty cool so we spent a big portion of the night hanging out together and excluding Sears.

I eventually left the party, I have no idea what I did between said party and returning to the dorm. I do know that when I got back to the dorm, a bunch of people were hanging around outside ripping butts. Naturally, I plopped down with them and stole a Parliament Light from the über-sexual blonde next to me.

“Oh my god – aren’t you the girl hooking up with my friend Sears?!” she exclaimed. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

Her name was Tigress and she wound up being my spirit animal, roomie and one of my best friends.

We became so close, in fact, that Sears wrote her an email about six months later detailing his sheer disappointment that she had ditched him for me. Which I will forever find endlessly amusing. 

{previous chapter} {table of contents}{next chapter}