The Truck. A True Story

Once upon the 90s, i knew a girl who ate like truck. This tall, slender, dark-haired beauty was graceful and, to me, so seemingly elegant. She also smoked like a chimney and had a tendency to eat piping-hot macaroni and cheese straight from the pan, with a wooden spoon, in about 4 bites. All while talking and smoking a cig.
Back in those days, i was living in my first apartment and going a little heavy on the freedom from my parents thing. We were all drinking our weekend meals and substituting after dinner mints with joints.
One special Friday night, a group of people, including The Truck, gathered at my place to get our drunk on. We pooled our money and came up with $72 which was enough for 5 bottles. When The Truck and her buddy returned with the booze, she had a bag from McDonald's. It was a "cheese bergie" she had gotten with the left over money. Her buddy also had a bag with him, but it was full of green stuff to share with everyone. It was understood that the bergie was only for The Truck.
We sat down in a circle on the living room floor. Before the first shots were even poured, The Truck tossed her food bag over her shoulder. "Are you not going to eat that?" I asked. To which she replied, "I already did." I admit, i was impressed - that was quick even for her.
Half hour later, we're all 3 or more shots in when the first joints get sparked up. One for clockwise, one for counterclockwise.

Let me just say right now, the events leading thus far might be hazy, or even incorrect. Friday or Saturday? $72? $52? Whatever. Hell, i can't necessarily remember exactly who all was there. All the things that come next, however, i can recall like they happened a minute ago. And, if you ask anyone else who was there, they would so back me up.

Anyway, a joint gets to The Truck. She hits it, holds it, and passes it along. As i myself am mid-hit, i hear the sharp intake of breath which signals the start of one of The Truck's famous coughing fits. I mean, she could make geese change direction midflight. For what else makes that noise but a tortured and dying goose?
So the signal comes but i am too engrossed with inhaling to look over. But the coughing fit doesn't come. Instead, it was just one loud, puncuated bark. And then silence - from everyone.
Silence, as we all ponder what has just magically appeared in the middle of our circle: a puddle of saliva with an intact cheeseburger dead center and with 2 whole fries stuck on for good measure. I didn't even know she'd had fries.
For 30 seconds, no one breathed. We look from the burger to The Truck. She's just sitting there, staring at the cheeseburger, with thee most transparent look on her face - Can i eat that again?
We all get our heads wrapped around what had just happened and start laughing insanely. One of my dear friends, whom i shall refer to here as The Mother, gives The Truck a dirty look and says, "Omigawd! You cannot eat that." and he proceeds to scoop the re-burger up with a towel just as The Truck reaches for it. Which only makes us laugh at an even more frenzied pitch.

And i just remember, she looked so sad.


Update bonus: The Truck still hitting the mac'n'cheese like boss, 17 years later!

The Raspberry Body Spray Incident

Once upon a time (the late 90s), there was a young woman in her first real relationship after high school. Let's call her Daria. The "man" she was in love with was someone she had not-so-secretly been nuts-balls about for about 6 years. It was not bliss. On his side, it was sort of a revenge relationship. And on her side...well, she was an idiot who would put up with anything from "Trent". She put up with a lot. He was a rock star who never shared anything, especially drugs, even when he had more than enough. He would share with everyone else, just not Daria. Sometimes he would give in and give her some mushrooms if she did things like drive to a party with 50 people and bring back the keg he had left there. He also liked to wait outside of the bathroom door or right inside the front door when she thought she was home alone wearing scary masks and terrifying the shit out of her as she came out of the shower or home from work. Or he would throw parties and specifically invite all the people Daria hated most.

Daria let Trent move in with her because he was unhappy being 22 and living in his parents' shitty basement. While she was at work, he moved all of her things from her bedroom to the guest room and claimed hers as his own. She had thought they would be sharing a room but he had moved out for independence. Why couldn't she stop suffocating him?!

There would be times that they shared a bed, however. Most of the time it was whatever. Nothing mind-blowing, but they had good times and occasionally would spend hours messing around and being goofy and laughing while they got their rocks off. But, then, something changed.

Trent started drinking more. Daria began to dread his invitations to his bedroom. Refusal wasn't exactly an option as he would simply crawl into her bed. And he started requesting things she was uncomfortable with; most noteably, back door access. He had been "accidentally power jabbing" her for weeks. Encounters would end ubruptly at that point because Daria would become angry. And also because it fucking hurt and she fucking hated it. She simply tried harder to please him in every other way. He wasn't having it. Pleading ensued. Then chasing. Once, he chased her until she threatened to call her dad.

One night, Trent was more persistent than ever. He was practically crying and saying shit about how this would make them closer than cancer and dying and other such things. She had always been a sucker for Tool lyrics. So she said miserably, "Well, go get something from the bathroom so you're not going in dry." And then mumbled about him being a son of a bitch while he practically skipped to the bathroom.

He came back with his raging boner glistening in the dark. "Roll over!"

He never made it in. Daria cried out, "Nope! It fucking hurts! Get off me!" So he unceremoniously flipped her over and did it the right way which hurt immensely too. He finished in record time with her screaming in pain for the short duration.

"What did use you? It BURNS!!"

"Raspberry body spray, dude. It's all I could find." And he fell asleep. She, however did not. Her cooter burned and burned and swelled and swelled over the course of the next 3 days until she broke down and called her older sister who immediately took her to the ob-gyn. She was far too humiliated to say what really happened so after parading every doctor, resident, and nurse through the room and snapping photos (which Daria is POSITIVE she saw in a medical book years later), the horrified doctor ordered some tests and sent Daria home. She was to return in 3 more days for the results.

Worst 3 days ever.

When Daria came back to the doctor, with labia 6 times their normal size, it was to a mystified medical crew. She had no STDs or anything alse they could pinpoint. The time had come to tell the truth. She cried as she admitted that she was dating an idiot who thought raspberry body spray was a lubricant. The doctor's eyes lit up! He knew the solution! The solution turned out to be 12 shots. It was simply an infection. All that needed to be done was to shoot 3 doses of steroids into each labia majora to force the infection to erupt but in order to make that pain toleralable, a total of 6 shots of novocaine were required. The doctor assured her that it would hurt more than giving birth but not last as long. It took 4 nurses to hold her down. In less than hour her junk was back to normal.

Anyway, she threw away all her raspberry-scented everything but stuck by her man. Until she learned that he had dumped her 2 weeks prior while she was too drunk to remember. What an asshole.