Saturday, November 6, 2010

How I Quit The Comfort Inn

Being in college we should have simply praised Moose for getting some action and dropped it from there. The fact that a girl was actually interested in Moose, borderline stalking the crazy bastard, just blew our mind and was a train wreck we couldn’t wait to watch.

Moose was never one to sweep the ladies off of their feet. Across the board, the ladies will tell you he's one of the nicest guys you'll ever meet. Need a ride to the grocery store? You’ll ride shotgun in his Bronco. Moving and need some Moose-muscle (or "Mooscles" as we came to call them)? He'd back up the Bronco. Gals, you know that guy you'd cry on the shoulder of because he was like a close cousin and there was no interest in him whatsoever? That was Moose.

I don't want to say Moose had bad taste, because there were all sorts of great looking female friends coming over to see Moose, but not one of them were interested in him that special way he was so desperately longing for. So he had to dig a little deeper into the barrel of love. Almost to the very bottom.

“Tricia” as I'm calling her because I have no idea what her real name is, was a bigger gal with no real figure and zero personality. She looked a little like Grimace, but with more of a flesh tone. She took what could only be described in the tongue of the Hill Folk as “a liking” to the Moose love and needed that Moose loving. She would not be denied. This put Wipf and I in an awkward situation. On one hand, we really hated this girl and had concern for our friend, but if Moose didn't get some action soon he would burst in the way that would require us moving out. And we liked our apartment, so Moose had to take the hit.

It was a Friday night in October when one of our parties was dwindling down at around 2:30 in the morning. Wipf and I each lay on a couch watching TV while Moose slumbered gently in his cave when we heard our downstairs door open and the thundering footsteps of a booty call coming. Tricia and 2 of her gal friends came in and asked where Moose was so we pointed them towards his room. They all went in and came out with Moose, very drunk and only half awake about 5 minutes later Tricia was leading the way with each of her friends supporting Moose under his arm. There was a party at a hotel room and they wanted him there, evidently in any condition they could take him. Moose gave us a wink and a smile which was by far the funniest thing I had seen in my life up to that point and stumbled out the door with his desperate, desperate woman and her friends.

The next morning I awoke to our usual array of friends on sofas in the living room who had not quite made it home from the bar the night before. It was my 3rd day of work at the Comfort Inn and I was getting ready for work while Wipf, Krink, Tara and Fish sobered up.

A few words of introduction are important on Krink, Tara and Fish. Krink was the Godfather of our group. He was the glue that held everything together. Our group of friends was eclectic to say the very least. We had football jocks, artists, musicians, gays, minorities, losers, outcasts, and super stars. Krink was the one thing in common that brought us all together.

He was a goofy looking comic book fan from a small town but his caring nature brought everyone under his wing at one point or another. Some of us just chose to stick around longer than others.

Fish was a 300 plus pound man-mountain majoring in science with some anger issues that usually had us laughing to no end. He was very much like Walter from The Big Lebowski, especially when drinking, but he was less violent.

Tara was our Group Hotty. She was a wing-man of sorts for any of the guys when we needed her at the bars. She could open doors and introduced us to circles of women that, without her, some of us never would have entered.

Wipf left for work as Moose was dropped off. Moose ran upstairs to tell us of his evening but said before he could get into details, he had to eat something so we should go out for lunch. I was torn. Go to work at the new job or hear the Moose Sex Tale? Fish put it into perspective for me.

"Dude, jobs come and go. How many times are you going to be able to hear a Moose Sex Tale?" The debate was over, advantage Fish. I called the Comfort Inn, quit, and went out for pizza with Moose, Tara, Fish, and Krink.

One Godfathers Pizza Buffet ordered and we got ourselves settled as Moose began to relay his story. He got back to the room party at the Super 8 which consisted of about 10 people who were all rolling around in various spots making out. Maybe it was because Moose was the oldest in the room, or possibly because she was the largest, but Tricia had a bed for the 2 of them. Lights go off and various people start going at it or passing out. Moose was in a segregated orgy. We were stunned.

"So what happened?" I asked.

"Well, we started kissing and making out and stuff, but something weird happened."

This wasn't as surprising as you might think as the story was already into the weird zone with us by the fact that A) Moose had a booty call and B) Moose was going at it with someone in a room full of other people. Due to a lifetime of unchecked personal fantasies these things struck him as normal.

"We were making out and stuff and I slipped my hand under her shirt" he said.

"You dog, Moose."

"Yeah, so she's breathing heavy and all excited and, well, you know how breasts get?"

Our interest level jumped immediately. Generally speaking, there are very few things that can be considered weird on how breasts work.

"Yeah" said Krink, knowing from experience how breasts get.

"Well, she was excited, right? And when boobs get excited, the nipples get hard you know?"

We knew.

"Hers didn't."

"Maybe she wasn't excited, Moose. You were pretty drunk" said Fish.

"No, they weren't flat either. They sort of… sunk in." We stopped eating.

"They sunk in? Like how? Like they were inverted?" I asked.
"Yeah, that’s it exactly. She got excited and her nipples went back inside of her."

"Like a pair of shy little turtles." said Fish.

I was curious. "What do you mean they went in? Like, how far?"

"Really far."

"Could you put change in them?" I asked. "If I had 35 cents in my pocket and I was making out with this girl, could I transfer them into her account with ease? I’m talking dimes and nickels."

Moose laughed. "I think you could!"

“Could they be used to store and transport pudding?” Krink asked. “Assuming you brought the Cling-wrap of course.”

"So anyway, we're fooling around and I have to piss so I break off for a second and head to the bathroom. Well, that took a while because..."

"Moose! We're eating. We know!"

Tara finally spoke up. “Wait, why did it take a while?”

At the age of 21, there were still mysteries of the male anatomy that Tara had yet to unlock and, unfortunately, the key to one was about to land as she was enjoying her lunch.

“Ok” Krink began, “Ok, the penis is a wonderful tool…”

He stumbled. Jumping in I added, “You know how a sprinkler works?”

“I’ve seen the penis, guys. I get the whole hose thing when you pee.”

“There’s more to it though” said Joe. “Imagine you’re handling a hose for a while. You’re watering the lawn with it and you’re trying to get to the boulevard on the other side of the sidewalk, but the hose is too short.”

“It’s always too short” she said with a smirk.

“Focus. So you can try to arch the hose up so the water goes further, or you can put your finger on the tip of the hose so it squirts the water out with a greater rate of pressure.”

Picking up on the analogy I added, “Right, so pretend the regular flowing hose you are holding is my dick while I’m trying to pee. It’s a totally normal Wednesday afternoon for you...” She hit me.

Krink brought it all home. “So when the dick gets all hard it’s like putting your finger on the end of a hose. From our standpoint, it’s a total pain in the ass to try and pee because this pressure is down there but nothing is coming out. And when it eventually does shoot out it’s just like the garden hose story and water shoots out in multiple directions.”

“You guys are so full of shit!”

“Yeah, it’s messed up, but that’s how it goes.” I said. “It’s usually just easier to take a minute to calm down some and remove that metaphorical stone at the end of our dick.”

"Yeah, so I finally calm down enough to pee and when I get back in there she tells me she has her period."

We stopped. Silence fell.

"So what did you do?" asked Krink cautiously, absolutely terrified of the potential answer.

"We fooled around for a bit and fell asleep."

"Wait, did she -just- get her period. Like when you were in the bathroom?" I asked.

"No, she had it and told me after I got out of the bathroom."

It had all become very clear to us: She had called an audible. We all stared at one another for a few moments, none of us having the heart to tell Moose, when Fish broke the silence with a slap on the back saying, "Well, you got some fine dry humping out of the night and you should be proud."

Which was all well in good for, Moose. Not really the story I was hoping to become unemployed for, but what do you do?

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