22 years old and trying to figure this stuff out

[garote]

Skot and I were on our way well enough. The both of us were happy to be having an adventure. I vocally pondered the prospect of going up Highway 1 instead of 17, since I'd heard 17 was down to one lane. I flipped a coin and we were off.

Highway 1 was breezy and pleasing to the eye. We talked about all sorts of things. That guy really is great conversation. It looked like the drive would go without a hitch until we passed an impromptu sign, flashing a warning that there had been a landslide at Devil's Cliff. Further progress north was blocked, and the highway branching inland was choked with an unmoving parade of motorists.

We stopped for a snack and examined the map, and elected to head back to an offshoot we'd passed earlier. The drive was still enjoyable, even though we knew we were going to be a bit late. Meat Beat Manifesto spewed out the stereo and the words flowed. For a while we tried to imagine what various famous writers would produce if they tried to write sketch comedy. I tried to unpack the reasons why I'd been so impressed by Stephen King when I was a kid. We mused for a while about the symbolism of the "road trip", as seen in old films, in literature, in crappy TV shows, and so on. Skot was a font of anecdotes and analysis and jokes.

We stopped at a gas station that turned out to be the same one Ace and I had run into when we were weaving through the hills after the Shonen Knife concert years ago. We mutually appreciated a bicyclist's toned thighs, and coasted down a windy road to Highway 101 and a surreal bridge across the San Fransisco Bay. With relatively little trouble we followed Zog's directions to his victorian castle in Oakland.

Skipping some bits... Zog and Skot and I drove to Davis, and Bradley and Kathleen's place, and met them and Vince and Lisa and Shannon. I installed Dungeon Keeper on Lisa's PC. Kathleen took me on a tour of the house. We all walked to the park and played on the swings. I stomped around in my new hiking boots with my pants tucked into my socks. It looked ridiculous but I didn't care.

We called Android, in Sacramento. We agreed to get dinner and then go to his place. Dinner was at Murder Burger, of course. Any excuse to get their chili fries! I pushed together a bunch of tables, creating seats for for eight. Somewhere on a cheap video camera there is a record of this event, I think.

Long drive to Android's double-wide. Melanie was there, and a friend of hers that I'd never met, named Eleanor. Pale skinned, full figured, with glasses and a short tomboyish haircut. I took an immediate liking to her. She came across as more reserved and calmer than Melanie, though just as engaged with her environment. I could see how the two friends complemented each other.

We watched South Park, and the video we'd filmed earlier. We decided to drive to "the lake". I got funky and belted out many Tori Amos lyrics. When we got to "the lake" it was closed for the night, so we drove around a little looking for a parking spot. Nope.

We followed Android down the freeway for a long while and ended up near Davis. We turned off the road and lost Lisa, Shannon, Vince, and Zog for a while. Brad and Kathleen rested in the back of the van and Skot napped in the front seat. I got out and consulted with Android, and while he went to talk to the passengers in the van, I dashed impulsively over to his car and got into the back seat, next to Eleanor.

I said hello to Melanie, and put together a longer conversation with Eleanor. We talked about journalism and editing, our college experience, and our jobs. The more I talked with her the more I liked her. "Maybe it's just the short haircut and the curves, you moron," said a voice in my mind. I ignored that voice.

Vince and the others drove up. They had stopped along the freeway ahead of us, then continued on and taken an access road back to our exit. Android thought that they had been driving home, while they thought they were leading the caravan. We sorted things out and agreed to go to a coffee shop in Davis. Android arrived back at the car and I shook hands with the girls and we were off.

We went to the coffee shop. I pushed together four or five tables for the second time that day. I strolled to Woodstock's Pizza with Zog and filled his empty coffee cup with soda from the fountain. We poked around at the arcade games and walked back. The coffee shop got boring and we all went outside, and I wrestled with Zog and line danced with several people, and started shouting through a traffic cone. We decided to go to a nearby park, in order to keep from police trouble. Bradley suggested stopping at his home for a jacket, but I complained that if we did we would never get to the park.

Thought: I remember when I was driving home from a camping trip, playing road games with Brad, tailgating the van in the tracer. Dad got angry with me for tailgating him, and when we stopped at a restaurant to eat and got out of the car, he walked up and quickly told my car crew to join with the other car crew, standing outside the restaurant. His demand seemed nonsensical, but I complied because it seemed important to him. When we were all together he presented us with a brief but annoyed lecture about traffic safety.

He had planned to make that announcement since before we stopped, and for maximum effect he wanted us in one group, so he only had to make the announcement once. It was a little bit of psychology: If he addressed the two cars separately his dual angry outbursts would seem contrived, but since he only did it once, it seemed genuine. He also wanted to make it clear to all of my friends that he was equally angry at me, so they wouldn't be inspired later to blame me for their embarrassment. We were all suffering together.

After I'd recovered from the initial humiliation, I realized that he had been pretty clever. It really got me thinking about crowd control, and getting people to coordinate.

Anyway, back to today. We drove to the park and everyone leapt out of their vehicles and went frolicking up over the hill like a pack of puppies. Skot elected to stay behind and nap in the van. Kathleen appeared tired. I took out a blanket and the guitar, determined to set up a central resting space, so Kathleen and others could sit around some place 'established'. If they just sat at a park bench or stood around, the rest of the crazy crew would ignore them until they were tired, and then elect to go home and rest. I spread the blanket on a hill near the playground. My little stab at crowd control.

I strummed the guitar by myself for a few minutes until several people wandered over, then I got up and played tag with Zog, Andy, and Vince. Eleanor played for a little while, and I gave her a brief back-scratch. (Having recently gone through a college dorm dating crash course, the back scratch was one of my go-to flirting moves.) We kept moving nearer to each other, whether walking around or sitting on the blanket. Even my usual dense and unobservant self could pick up the clues.

After running up and down the hill for a bit, I headed back to the blanket and took off my shoes. Kathleen was there. We chatted, and then Eleanor spotted me and walked out of the group in the playground and sat next to me.

"Shall we continue?" I said, referring to the back-scratch. She happily agreed and took off her shoes, then sat between my legs. I massaged her back and shoulders, and ran my hands over her short-cropped hair. The three of us talked for a while. Kathleen and I called Bradley over so that he could hug Kathleen and keep her warm. Soon the rest of the group came tearing back to the blanket and stood around us. "We seem to have attracted an audience," observed Eleanor.

The general consensus was to head back to Brad and Kathleen's place. Reluctantly I let Eleanor go and we all walked back to the cars. On the way she held my hand.

Back on the couch at the house, Eleanor and I were sitting together again, playing with each others' hands and trading little touches. I participated in the conversation as usual, and everyone else in the room obviously saw what was going on, but was too nice to comment.

I learned later that Vince felt frustrated and a little jealous of our abrupt intimacy. Zog summarized it as, "damn, why can't I do that?" I thought about it for a while. There was a charitable explanation, and an uncharitable one. I could say that I was learning how to read signals, and how to put myself confidently in front of people to encourage them to respond. On the other hand, I could say I had learned how to present myself as an easy, drama-free lay, and people who were open to that responded to it. I was being a "himbo," as my UCSC friends might say. Either way, this "skill" felt like a sudden addition to my personality.

Bradley's car was still parked at Android's trailer, so they had to drive back and get it. Andy was going to lead them there. The whole group got up and started talking near the front door as people prepared to leave. Eleanor and I remained on the couch. Bless them and their receptivity for giving us those few moments.

Eleanor and I were both very cautious. She sat up and I sat up, but neither of us got up from the couch. We moved very close together and stared, silently, into each others' eyes. Paring away all the distractions except each other, we watched for misgivings or detachment or confusion. A full minute passed. Suddenly we realized that we had both been staring for a long time. No denying it now. We watched big grins form across our faces. Our eyes closed and we touched noses, and cautiously, slowly, we found each others' lips and enjoyed our first kiss. In the back of my head I thanked the others over and over again for their discretion.

We all wandered outside and Eleanor talked with Melanie and arranged to have her stuff packed up and sent back with Bradley and Kathleen. "Have fun, kids," said Android, and the two cars drove off. We went back inside.

Vince set things up for us in the TV room: A fold-down futon couch with a broken slat which he warned us of. Lights went out as everyone found bedding and sought sleep, and Eleanor and I climbed into bed with most of our clothes on and sought each other. We kissed and whispered, and lay like spoons for a while. I journeyed my hand up beneath shirt and began to touch her breasts, and she let out a whimper that had a note of hesitation in it.

I stopped and asked her what was wrong. She said she was overwhelmed. This wasn't her house; these weren't her friends ... She suddenly felt disoriented and afraid for the future. I asked if she wanted to talk about it and she said yes. Soon a narrative began.

She had followed a job opportunity to California, leaving behind all her friends except Melanie. She knew no-one here, and all her recent and distant memories belonged to another state. She had an apartment nearby in Dublin, and a job, but had not found any time to meet new people, and didn't even know how - or where - she would. Her loneliness had pulled her to me and my warmth and attention. She wanted a hug, not sex. I told her that as far as I was concerned, if she didn't want to do it, we wouldn't do it, and that was that. I would still have a great time. We hugged and kissed but I didn't pursue anything more.

We talked late into the night. I confessed to her that I didn't know why I was doing this. I told her that I figured my motives were impure -- if I was only doing this out of concern for her, I would do this for all people I was concerned with. "Well you can't change the whole world, you just have to take it one person at a time", she said.

"No, my point is, I think the only reason I got as close to you as I did was because I also found you physically attractive. That somehow seems ... backwards to me. I mean, I'm concerned, and I'm offering comfort and attention and concern but I think I'm offering it for stupid reasons."

She was sympathetic. "It seems okay to me," she said. "I mean... I can't complain."

That shut me up. We whispered and kissed for a while longer, and eventually slept back to back, feet entertwined, heads touching.

When I woke up, it was afternoon. We were in the same position. When I moved, Eleanor turned over and smiled at me. We cuddled face-to-face and talked some more.

She asked what I found attractive about her. "Well, I think mostly it's the way you carry yourself. You're this combination of relaxed, and friendly, but also observant, like you see everything that's going on. I mean, I like the way you look, obviously, but what really sets you apart for me is that presence."

"Huh," she said. "That's perceptive; I like it. But, the way I look is more what I'm asking about. To be honest I don't usually get the chance to pick the brains of guys who were, like, mysteriously drawn to me and shit, you know? I'm curious what made it work."

I chuckled. "Hmm, well, the haircut. I dig short hair. Or really long hair. The glasses I think? You're not too skinny, which is great. I mean, I have no idea why skinny women are so popular. They're just no fun. You've got curves!"

"Um, ya think?" she said, teasingly, and laughed.

"That's definitely part of it. I'm pretty sure I have a breast fetish too. I should warn you about that."

She tilted her eyebrows. "Why would I need a warning?" she asked.

"Well, you didn't like them being touched last night. And I'm probably going to try and go for them again at some point..."

"Oh, that wasn't about my boobs specifically. I mean, yeah I was upset, and the intimacy kind of brought that out. But usually I really like them being touched."

"Sweet!" I said, grinning. I wondered if I should give it another go right then. Before I could, she rustled around in the covers and threw them over our heads, hiding us beneath a dome.

Her face glowed from the tiny fringe of sunlight. "Want to know a secret?" she said.

"Sure!"

She'd had breast reduction surgery done when she was nineteen, because her breasts had grown so big they were a problem. Doctors had taken five pounds out of each one. She'd donated the flesh to the Michigan University Cancer Research Lab. She pulled her shirt up to her neck, showing me the scars. Anchor shapes, at the base of each breast running up around the nipple. I inspected them, delighted, and with permission I got my hands on them.

Eventually I got up to wash my face, and Eleanor headed outside for a morning smoke. Skot was awake, writing. Zog was still asleep. Vince directed us to some breakfast muffins on the table. I threw on my old clothing and stomped out to the van in my new shoes, and found my change of pants, underwear, and shirt. I dressed in the TV room, with Eleanor relaxing on the bed, gazing out pensively through the blinds into the backyard.

I told Skot I had to drive her home, and Eleanor and I headed to the van and got out on the road. The Meat Beat Manifesto tape started up, and soon reached a Tori Amos track. She and I sang along to it, as we flew West along I-80, making me happy. Maybe the music was another reason she'd decided to get close. Soon we reached her apartment.

The grounds were in disrepair, but the rooms were large and solid and clean on the inside. She located a blank tape and I immediately set my Tori Amos tape to dub on her mini-stereo.

We sat around and talked about her apartment and her plans. We discussed our favorite songs and what they meant to us. She offered to make grilled cheese sandwiches and I accepted one. I examined some notebooks filled with sketches and watercolors while she cooked. I tried on her glasses and they didn't make me look hideous in the mirror. We sat down to eat in a comfortable silence.

After the meal and I flipped the tape over in the player and we put the second side on high-speed dub. She had another cigarette and we talked, and I opened the sliding door again to dissipate the smoke. When that was done she rolled the door shut again, drew the blinds across, and sat down in a chair. I ambled over and leaned against the wall behind her and played with her hair and her face.

My hands roamed farther afield. Soon we moved to another room. She didn't have much in the way of furnishings, but she had a bed. And birth control.

. . .

"That was nice", I whispered.

"She grinned. 'Nice' is a really big understatement" she replied.

"Okay, ya got me there. That was way more than nice."

Our breathing settled and the room went quiet. Neither of us felt like talking, really. Hormones had done the job that words hadn't been able to, and we were starting to drift sideways from each other. Though I hated to bring it up, I remind us that I'd left two friends waiting in Sacramento, without transportation.

She acknowledged this and I reluctantly got up. I asked if she wanted a blanket and she said no. While I was washing up, she threw on some clothing. She opened the blinds and sat in her chair, and had another cigarette as I put on my shoes and socks. Some lackluster chatter. We traded phone numbers and email addresses, swearing to stay in touch. We kissed, and kissed some more.

I took my tape and glasses and wandered over to the door. We kissed again. I was concerned about leaving her all alone in that apartment, even though I'd started the Tori Amos tape playing. What would she do with the rest of the day? The place seemed so barren. She said she was going to do some laundry. We kissed again. Eventually I made it outside and to the van. I leaned on the steering wheel and said "What the hell did I just do?!"

Then I was on my way back to Sacramento, tear-assing along at 85mph. I arrived to a note on the door of the Davis estate, and backtracked to a Denny's. There I found my group and quietly sat down. I asked a waitress for a coke with no ice and a glass of water, and hunched over them, resigned to some reproach and abuse over my long absence. People were understanding, though. Zog wasn't angry, though Skot was annoyed because we would get home late.

Kathleen sensed that I was troubled, and reached out, concerned for my state of mind and curious as to what had gone on. I described how Eleanor was going through a bad time and I figured she had been lonely so we spent some time together. I didn't elaborate beyond that, and I was pretty sure that I didn't need to. Kathleen nodded.

Eventually I perked up a bit and started to participate in the conversation. Shortly after that it was time to get going. This road trip was nearing its end.

Comments

[zeugma92]

Funny, I remember all of this -- both being there and this piece of writing. I don't really remember Eleanor's appearance, but I remember you getting with her and this whole thing very well. You may have shown me this entry within a couple years.

Hilarious that I'm annoyed at the end there -- I must have originally had plans back home with Torrey or I needed to do something early the following day, or both. Just about the only two things that annoy me disproportionately, then and now, is either being made late for anything, or being forced to short my sleep. Usually I keep it to myself for one-off incidents so the fact I was showing my annoyance indicates it may have been both. At least it was well worth it in this case!

[garote]

Being forced to short one's sleep is a horrible, horrible thing. Turns me into a monster.

(Explains why I was a monster so often as a teenager!)