Sugar and spice, and everything nice my ass.
When I wrote that line in a previous post, I immediately began reflecting on a wonderful and eye-opening experience from my youth.
Let me preface this by saying I think women are wonderful. They should rule the world. They are sugar and everything nice, but I have learned they do have a lot of spice in them . . .
In my senior year in high school I developed a girlfriend. Not a necking, petting partner, but a friend who happened to be female. We didn’t see each other much during my first semester of college and my drop out year, but we met back up in my following college years and hung out some as we both attended the same department and we were just good friends.
We had only one physical encounter. This happened shortly before she was to be married and I suspect was part of her final fling. While that sexual tension had always existed calmly between us, we never let it get in the way of the friendship we had. We supported each other in a great many ways.
We continued to hang out and help each other as friends during my first marriage and her first marriage, which ended much more quickly than mine. It was at that time that she moved half way across the country and I never heard from her again, which is a shame. If I could contact her now, I would seek her out. That friendship that was virtually void of anything physical is just the thing a real romance should grow from. However I learned during my second marriage that she had tragically passed away. Fate can be cruel in so many ways.
But back to the story. Her nickname was Scooter and it fit. What a hoot. Always on the go. A short, trim, buxom, blue eyed, wiry haired blonde with all the fire of a redhead. Being her friend for a short time, I was adopted into her clique, a group of four gals, each of them a spitfire in her own right.
One night Scooter and I were working on the story board for a film project at her apartment which was shared by Scooter and the other three gals. Suddenly they all decided that it was time to go out on the town.
The five of us pile into a car and off we go. Me and four wild gals heading to Five Points, the drinking quarter of town. Now the drinking and bar hopping was fun, no two ways about that. I am not a drinker. Because of that when I do drink I’m a lightweight. I know that so I am very careful. It isn’t the drunk that I dislike it is the way I have to pay for it. I so dislike praying at the porcelain throne the next day.
I kept to my requirements in a keen sense on this night. I did not want to mentally loose one minute of this unique experience, me and four girls gone wild. What really struck me was how absolutely crude gals can be when they are totally to themselves. In the car as we headed to Five Points and on the way back or any time we were all safe and secluded from the world these gals let fly like I never imagined possible. Gossip, sure. But I heard curses and jabs that would make the saltiest sailor cringe. Not blush, down right cringe. At times I found it impossible to contain my revulsion at their comments which only poured gasoline on their hot tempers. Guys, you just cannot believe some of the things gals will say to each other when they are all by themselves.
The point of this true story? Sugar and spice, and everything nice my ass!