Dumbass of Love
The next couple of weeks were fantastic, aside from one niggling detail. Someone was always ringing the doorbell when we were in the middle of having sex. I honestly didn’t think it was anything sinister at the time, but it was starting to piss me off, and I just turned the music up. With the music up, she went at it like a porn star. I heartily recommend the Mingus Big Band. And the costumes. Oh lordy, how can I forget the costumes. Catholic schoolgirl, debutante, office worker. Frankly, I was just there for the sex, and I wasn’t too bothered about what she was wearing, or if she wanted to role play. I was a dumbass, and I was head over heels for the girl.
Over the course of those two weeks I met her friends, and I got the backstory behind the pictures in her room; which ones were her relatives, which ones were friends and which ones were ex-boyfriends. One she spent a long time explaining was the most recent guy, Alex, I think. They had broken up over the summer and they were supposed to be sharing the apartment downstairs, but she had talked to the landlord and managed to secure the present accommodations. Alex had gone into therapy for some reason she didn’t disclose.
“So where’s he now,” I asked. “Somewhere out towards the liquor store?”
“Oh no, he’s still living downstairs. I think he has the bedroom under this one.”
This explained a number of things to me. Firstly, why she turned the music down when I turned it up. Secondly, it explained why she was always intent on making so much noise in the pornstar vein. Thirdly, it explained why people around campus had started using a colourful nickname for me. “Roughrider,” while a wonderful thing to be called if you’re in the CFL or on a DMX track, is a bit unsettling to hear just walking down the street. Besides, I was still a little sensitive about my weight.
I also got to meet Conner. Con was a big fella. He must have been 6’7, and he had a bright red afro thing happening. He must have weighed about 130 or so, and he was rail thin. He was also a hopeless romantic. I’d seen the guy in band before and we were pretty friendly. Word spread through the music department though that I was dating Roxy, probably due in part to the time we appropriated a soundproofed practice room for what cannot possibly be described as rehearsal. He heard about this, and it turned out that they went to the same high school. He’d been pining over her for about six years and trying to get somewhere but with very little success. Despite all this, they were friends, and she wanted to keep him around and would do so by flirting with him at every possible opportunity and keeping the hope that something will happen alive.
So to sum up, she lives above her ex-boyfriend and is trying to make him jealous, fucks like a rabbit, has rumors circulating about her participation in group sex, and essentially keeps a wiry giant of a man on a leash of emotion.
Somehow, I managed to convince myself that it was weird, but that I should shut up and enjoy the ride.
That was the first two weeks. Eventually, it’s going to get weirder.