On Top Originally Untitled 

Reprinted from Chickenlegs - 10/20/02

True confession time, ladies and gentlemen.

I lost my virginity on a bean bag chair in a dorm room in the mid 1980's. I lasted all of about 12 seconds, which is still something of a longevity record for me. As far as sex locations go, a bean bag chair is about as lame as it gets.

The worst part is that, since the bean bag chair was lame, we continued fooling around for the rest of the semester on the lower bunk of her bed while one of her roommates slept on the top bunk. I thought we were being all suave and cool, until two years later.

See, I lived with this Rugby player named Spike. No kidding. His name was Spike. His given name. On his birth certificate. I introduced Spike to this cheerleader named Annie that I was buddies with and the two of them were soon a drunken, slovenly couple. Unlike Sheila's roommates, these two were hot. I mean "Real World" hot, if we had had "Real World" back in my college days.

Anyhow, Spike and Annie had the lower bunk and while they thought I was asleep, they would rut like horny, wounded rhinos. I am sure they thought that they were being all suave and cool, just like I had, but I learned an unfortunate fact of physics: what is a gentle rocking motion on a lower bunk is equal to a fucking 8.4 on the rictor scale earthquake on the top bunk.

To this day, I send Christmas cards to my ex-girlfriend's top bunk roommate, even though I lost touch with the ex. I figure it is the least I can do for violent shaking her awake for 10 to 15 seconds at a time in college.
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