My Life in 33 1/3 RPM: Or How Music Has Influenced My Remembrance of Helping an Old High School Friend Score For The Very First Time…Part IIBy Rich Ferguson
April 23, 2007
In Part I of this piece:
My best friend in high school, Mike, confessed that he needed help getting laid. It just so happened that I had a friend, Kathi–a real sex-bomb cherry–who I figured to be just the girl to top off his virgin sundae…
Part II: The Hook-Up
After explaining my hook-up idea to Mike, I contacted Kathi.
It didn’t take a lot of convincing to get her on board.
That Kathi: Back in high school she was a tried and true all-American party girl.
But even with Mike and Kathi being up for the arrangement, it still took some work on my part.
A lot of back and forth calling to finally set a date.
One Saturday Mike had tickets for a nitro funny car race.
The next Saturday Kathi was scheduled to go to a nitrous oxide party.
Finally, after a couple weeks had passed, I phoned them both and, said: “No more dickin’ around. You’re getting together this Saturday. And that’s final!”
Once the date was secured I devised a plan.
I made sure it was easy as A-B-C easy as 1, 2, 3.
That way no one would back out–especially Mike.
Still being a virgin, no telling what crazy excuse he might concoct at the last minute to bail.
Maybe he’d suddenly need to change the spark plugs in his primer-blue Nova.
Or floss his dog’s teeth.
Or get some weird-ass tattoo on his back.
Yeah, with Mike, no telling what weird shit he might come up with at the last minute to dodge his de-virginizing party.
So I kept the plan simple.
Since the two of us pumped gas at the same local station in town, and since I’d be working day-shift that Saturday, and Mike, evening shift, I made him give me his house key.
Told him that by the time he arrived home at eleven, I’d be there with a case of beer, some weed, and Kathi.
And once I made the formal introductions I’d be gone.
The plan was a charm, it would go off without a hitch.
Especially since Mike’s parents would be out of town that weekend.
“So you ready to rock and roll?” I said.
“I think so,” said Mike.
With that, I produced a box of condoms.
I slapped the box in his hands, and said: “Hit a home run, slugger.”
Mike ogled the condoms, then looked me right in the eyes.
I’d never seen him so happy.
The grinning Halloween pumpkin of his absolute joy rose straight into the sky.
“Thanks,” he said. “No one’s ever done this for me before.”
“Not a problem,” I said. “I just want you to score.”
Once I left Mike I phoned Kathi to fill her in on the details.
Here’s the hitch though…
What I didn’t tell either one of them was that I had an additional part to my plan.
We’ll call it Plan B.
This Plan B involved a little pranking.
Like I’ve said before: Mike and I loved to prank each other.
Another person who loved pranking was my brother.
So I decided to get him in on the action, too.
Told him that before picking up Kathi I’d drop him off at Mike’s.
He’d hang out in the bedroom while Kathi and I waited in the living room for the soon-to-be-de-virginizedto get home.
Once Mike arrived and I’d made the introductions, my brother would duck into Mike’s bedroom closet, where he’d have box seats for the whole down-and-dirty.
“Are you up for it?” I said.
My brother’s face went all Christmas in June.
That’s because he also knew Kathi.
Sure she was a bit trashy.
But still, she was hot.
“But how will I know when they’re coming to the room so I can duck in the closet?” he said.
We mulled over possible signals I could call out.
Shouting Whippoorwill would be too random.
Mike would definitely sense something was amiss.
Ditto with calling out a line from our favorite Vonnegut novel, Slaughterhouse Five:
“They crawled into a forest like the big, unlucky mammals they were.”
Finally we came up with an idea.
I’d sing a few lines from that Foreigner song: “Hot Blooded.”
“Perfect,” said my brother.
And so we were set.
And so the big night finally arrived.
It was party time at Mike’s.
And after I’d snuck my brother into Mike’s bedroom,
And after I’d picked up Kathi and introduced her to Mike,
And after we’d downed a few beers and smoked a little weed,
Kathi and Mike were ready to go at it.
So I made my exit.
But not before I playfully belted out those words.
The words that would have my brother bolting for Mike’s closet:
“I’m hot blooded, check it and seeeeeeeeee. I’ve got a fever of a hundred and threeeeeeeee.”
Coming Soon, Part III…The Score, as Recounted in 33 1/3 RPM