Because sometimes sex is messy. Filthily, disgustingly, gloriously messy.
I was working at this chicken restaurant across the street from my house back in high school when I met this girl who was also working at the bird joint. She worked in salads, while I was a snot-nosed derelict bussing tables and washing dishes. This salad girl was my first glimpse into the looking glass of lust. She should have come with a warning label: “Do not pursue unless you’re prepared to pay child support.” No man alive would have been able to pull out in time.
I always knew, without a shadow of a doubt, I’d have sex with this girl anytime, anyplace, no matter what, if I had the opportunity. We could have been standing in the main dining room packed to the gills with customers and, if she had whispered in my ear, “Hey, Mike, fuck me, now,” I wouldn’t have hesitated to wear her spectacularly perfect ass out on top of somebody’s mashed potatoes. Hell, she and I could have been knee-deep in a funky puddle of dumpster juice, but if she gave me the word, I would yank my pants down, give a little silent praise to the creator of such a hot piece of tail and do her dirty.
Although humans typically think of sex in terms of something that happens in the cleanliness of their bedrooms, spontaneity often dictates that we eat from the coital commissary like rats. Sex can be a dirty job, and quite literally too. This is a lesson I learned a long time ago, and incidentally, the salad girl was my instructor. One night, we were sitting in her car after work listening to the new Mötley Crüe album, talking about how we couldn’t wait to see them in concert when they came to town in September. Even though my house was right across the street, she offered to drop me off once we were done. When we got there, she wasn’t in a hurry to get home. So, we stood outside my driveway for a while longer, talking like teenagers do. My dad was rebuilding a 1969 Plymouth Roadrunner at the time, and she asked if we could take a look.
“Sure,” I replied. I took her inside his shop and proceeded to show her what was a less than impressive work in progress. “It’ll be awesome when it’s finished.”
And then… she kissed me.
