Remember, remember the 7th of NoVember.

This November 7th marks a historic day in the history of all things historical. I’m not speaking in regard to it being the day AFTER our nation chooses just who is going to take this broken horse of a country out behind the stable and finally put it out of it’s misery. My excitement towards the 7th day of this month lies in the fact that it will be the 25th anniversary (silver for those of you wanting to buy a gift in observation of this momentous day) of me losing my virginity.

That’s right people, I’ve been exchanging bodily fluids, lies, excuses, regrets, currency and communicable diseases with girlfriends, pseudo friends, internet dates, strippers and total strangers for…a quarter of a century and still going strong. I’d even go so far as to boast that my proficiency rivals that of any modern day assembly line with a 90% approval rating…because I don’t pay attention to those who criticize and just don’t care about the other 10% of the people I’ve been with because I was intoxicated for days or months at a time.

“But, Chris, what humble beginnings did you come from?“ Is a question no one’s bothered to ask because no one gives a shit about the answer. Well friends, I’ll go ahead and tell you about the day that changed my life forever anyway. Besides, what else is there to do right now with your mobile device while you’re on the toilet, Jon Dove? Or working out at the gym, T.J. Likes? Or still hanging out in your closet, Mike Delfs? Or planning an all out armed Christian revolution if Romney losses, James Johnston? Or watching your husband plan said armed revolution Angie Johnston? Or trying to remember where your keys & I.D. are Stacey Lynn? The answer is; Nothing. So, enjoy…

It was 1987 and Def Leppard’s Hysteria album was dominating the airwaves just as Tawny Kitaen laying spread eagle on a Jaguar for Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again” video was dominating MTV. I had just turned 14, my parents were newly divorcees and I‘d been stuck in the same catholic school for the past 8 years.

Top that off with gorging myself on a steady cultural diet of hair metal music and Cinemax After Dark movies (Emmanuel were a fave) and the sexcapades both those entities espoused and any 5th grader could predict that I was well on my way to becoming a teenage sex statistic with either an unplanned pregnancy or STD.

Two months prior to 11/7/87 a girl by the name of Stephanie Meyer had started at our school. She was a new face and had a long history of changing schools as often has her meth smoking, bartending mom changed boyfriends and addresses. I’m fairly certain that one can already surmise just what type of home life she had and why it would make perfect sense that she became the Yin for my Yang as well as the yin to a dozen other’s yangs also.

Steph (as she hated to be called) and I had been “going together” for quite some time because she liked Mexican guys, or as her white trash vernacular dictated; Beaners. During our tenure we’d made out, wrote letters and gave ourselves the same theme song Tawny Kitaen used for attempting to have intercourse with a motor vehicle on MTV. We also had one minor break-up which was quickly remedied by me wearing a fedora to school the next day and winning her back on my wardrobe alone because even then girls were stupid when it came to douche bag swag.

The 7th fell on a Saturday and Stephanie had called me that morning to tell me her mom was out of town and we should hang out. I quickly concocted a story to my mom about how I wanted to meet some friends at a local recreation center to play basketball and video games that just happened to be down the street from Stephanie’s place. My mom, acting against her better judgment (which would become a recurring thing in all matters Chris related for the next 4 years) agreed to drop me off at the Rec center and told me she’d be back in 4 hours.

This gave me a two hundred and forty minute window of opportunity to eradicate my virginity once and for all. Most if not all teenage boys view the losing of their virginity the same way a cancer patient views remission. This may sound a bit dramatic to the laymen (females the world over) but if you ask any puberty stricken guy if he’s stoked about the prospect of being a virgin for the rest of his life and the consequential  social backlash attached to it, his answer is a deafening “FUCK NO!“ To us virginity is a curse. It’s The Original Sin we’re born with and our job is to exorcise, vanquish or cure it A-S-A fucking P.

I’d spent countless years wondering how I was going overcome the congenital condition I suffered from and now, on this day, it seemed as if a solution was in sight. Some might even call it providence.

Stephanie met me at the Rec center and we immediately did what most kids do without money, a car or the moxie to suggest having sex; we walked around aimlessly. Finally after two hours and many miles later, she suggested we go back to her place. I’d like to say that I remember it beat for beat but it’s been twenty five years with lots of drugs, alcohol and grey hairs filling in that time. I can remember that her room looked just like a room from an after school movie about kids who have sex and something terrible happens.

Posters on the wall, a bunk bed she shared with her older sister who I can only guess was busy doing the same thing at some other boy’s place. Clothes strewn about and a personalized license plate one of her mom’s boyfriends had stolen off a car that said “CUDDLES” on it.

I remember everything was so…easy. There weren’t any awkward moments, everything seemed to transition the way I’d watched thousands of times in movies. I had no idea how to move so I just faked it and figured slower was better. Which seemed to work because this shit went on for almost an hour.

I know, I know, when I tell others about it, they, as am I, are surprised that my maiden voyage out into the seas of sexuality lasted so long without any cataclysmic mishaps. I can't explain it either but the funny thing is, I never came. I'm guessing for all the low-grade education I’d gotten on sex from music and movies, no one bothered to mention the bonus part at the end, or better put, the bonus part that signifies the end. And truth be told up til then I’d never masturbated because again, it wasn’t in any of my reference materials and I think any of my guy friends that were doing it at the time sure as hell weren't going to talk about it with any other guy at the risk of being called a homo. Simply put, I had no idea my little fella could do that.  But I was informed on everything I needed to know from someone I never wanted to hear it from soon enough.

We finished and got dressed, I walked down the street and sat up against a tree outside the Rec center as I waited for my mom to pick me up. The sun was setting and the leaves had already turned and covered the ground yet it was still mild out. I fell asleep while waiting and that’s when I experienced the next best thing about sex, the after sex nap. Angels and dead people couldn’t sleep this peaceful.

The sound of my mom’s car horn put an end to my very first post-coitus slumber and on the ride home she could tell something was different about me and that’s when she figured it was time to get her own hands dirty.

You know, Chris, masturbation isn’t a sin. It’s the act of touching your private parts to give yourself pleasure. God doesn’t frown upon that, contrary to popular belief.

Wha-

He does however frown upon sex before marriage.

I-

When you have sex with a girl and ejaculate inside her, she can get pregnant. That can cause problems, just ask your 16 year old cousin Sarah. Ejaculation is the act of spewing seamen. It’s a white discharge that comes from your penis. It makes babies…

But-

…except in the case of your father. He told me his seamen couldn’t do that. That’s why you and your other brother are adopted and why we were all surprised when I got pregnant with your youngest brother. Your dad blamed me for having an affair. As if.

Mom, I-

Heavy petting is also an infraction upon God. Better to just keep your hands to yourself and on yourself. But don’t let your brothers catch you doing it, I don’t think they’re old enough to get anything out of it and they’ll  probably end up hurting themselves.

This is all-

A talk your Dad was supposed to have with you but guess who gets stuck doing it. Did I ever tell you I was going to become a nun before I met your father?

Several times.

Then you know what I’m saying about God’s likes and dislikes are legitimate, yes?

In the end my own mother filled me in on some of the more embarrassing things pop culture had left out about sex as well as giving me a thumbs up, or open palm salute, to jerk off. Stephanie and I went on dating through out the year with a lot of fights, tears and break ups and I think it’s safe to say she had sex with most of my friends and a lot of strangers as well. Surprise, surprise.

It was a very realistic introduction to just how confusing and vicious sex can be for a kid wrestling with the emotional burdens of adolescence. I sometimes wonder since she was my first impression on relationships that somewhere I came to mistake dysfunction as being normal. Then again, maybe I just like crazy women because they make me feel sane.

I lost touch with Stephanie after my 8th grade year but I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to find out she had a myriad of children, addictions, diseases, stage names or any combination of the four. Then again, maybe she’s picked herself up by her stripper heel straps, overcome adversity and started writing books about vampires and werewolves being in love. But I seriously doubt she’s THAT Stephanie Meyer. Mainly because I’ve checked already