A story from my past...

Today, I thought I might share with you a story of my very naive teenage years.

Let me start off by telling you about the cast of characters I ran around with...

Blonde Bombshell - 6 foot tall blonde with an obsession for Madonna and Motley Crue.
Scarlet - Very pretty brunette that was from a rival school, but we took dance together.
Gay Escort - Skinny, Hispanic gay friend that I didn't realize was gay until two years after I graduated from high school.
Model - The other gay guy in our group, I knew he was gay because he came out our senior year. He would use the hallway in my house to practice his "runway strut."

When I think about this group of friends, I always start smiling and sometimes start laughing uncontrollably. The thing is, the five of us spent every weekend together and we never did anything bad, just stupid stuff. Sadly, I was the ditsiest one of the group and would pretty much believe anything they told me. Here is the example I usually use...

Blonde Bombshell: Single Girl, do you know why they don't sell fireworks all year long?
Single Girl: No, why? (head cocked to the side, like a cocker spaniel)
Gay Escort: Because the fireworks scare the cows so much that they don't produce milk.
Single Girl: (Thinking about what I was just told) That makes sense.

And it did, it made perfect sense to me. I know, I wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box. Luckily, I've grown out of that.

Anyway, these four friends would spend the night every weekend at my house...to this day I'm not sure why, I had the smallest home, but I did have a pool so maybe that was it. One night we were sitting in my bedroom and I guess we were bored and Blonde Bombshell found an old, rusty safety pin. And the conversation went something like this...

Blonde Bombshell: Single Girl, let's pierce your belly button.
Single Girl: Uh, no.
Blonde Bombshell: Why not?
Single Girl: Because it would hurt!
Blonde Bombshell: I thought you might say that, but I have an idea.
Single Girl: What?
Blonde Bombshell: Well, I found this tube of Anbesol. We'll rub this on there and wait until it's numb then I'll pierce your belly button with this safety pin.
Single Girl: Do you think the Anbesol will work?
Blonde Bombshell: Hello?!?! It works on your gums, why wouldn't it work on your stomach?
Single Girl: That makes sense, OK let's do it!

So, I lay down on the floor and expose my belly button. Blonde Bombshell smears the entire tube of Anbesol on and around my belly button.

Blonde Bombshell: OK, let's let that set for a minute that way it has time to take full effect.
Single Girl: Sounds good.

(Five minutes later)

Blonde Bombshell: OK, are you ready?
Single Girl: Yeah, my stomach is tingling a little...let's try it!

Blonde Bombshell straddles my legs, puts her left hand on the bed and with the rusty safety pin in her right hand starts using stabbing motions to pierce the numbed belly button. I have no idea why she was startled when I started screaming...

Blonde Bombshell: What's wrong?
Single Girl: OH MY GOD!!! THAT HURTS!
Blonde Bombshell: What are you talking about? We put Anbesol on it!
Single Girl: IT DIDN'T WORK!!!
Blonde Bombshell: Fine...I need a cigarette.

So, I didn't get my piercing...I can't remember what we did the rest of the night. It was probably the same night she decided that it would be really cool to draw "sleeve tattoos" on both of my arms with colored Sharpie markers. She assured me that nail polish remover would take the ink off my skin. Nail polish remover takes off nail polish, varnish off your table, and dulls your Formica. Guess what nail polish remover doesn't remove...You guessed it! Sharpie marker off your skin.

Until next time...

Single Girl