  Judy Blume had it all Wrong &nbsp; I am not a big fan of exploratory questions. When I meet people I like revealing myself gradually. Bit by bit. What if I end up hating their guts and they run off with all of these sordid details about me?&nbsp; It is a cautionary tactic.
I live New York City land of homicide and identity theft. The less people know about you the better. I mean seriously, have you ever wondered why ALL the crime shows on television are based in my lovely little city. It is not a coincidence. Moving on. The question that I loathe more than Is that your real hair?
has got to be So when, where and with whom did you lose your virginity? That my friends is the worst question anyone can ask a fucked up girl who up until recently has used sex to somehow fill some sort of clichesidual father issue. I figure in order to avoid the awkwardness that follows such a question I will answer it once and then refer people to my blog site. Virginity is the umbrella of the virtue family. Without wanting to women tend to leave it everywhere bars, cabs or freshly tarred rooftop in the rain.
It is never borrowed or given freely it is misplaced like your ripped up panties that descended ten stories only to land in the gutter somewhere between eighty first and eighty second street and Lexington Avenue.&nbsp;&nbsp; Jason Coleman was the most beautiful boy I had ever seen. I was only thirteen and a neophyte to lust. He was a product of an Italian mother and a black father. He had cafon leche skin that seemed to have been kissed by a million rays of Caribbean sunshine. His eyes were a bayou green that consisted of earth marsh and algae. His eyelashes were long and curled a million centimeters towards heaven.
He had lips resembling soft pink cushions and his teeth were straight and whiter than angels wings. He wore baggy pants that hung off his ass as if they were meant to come off incessantly. I met Jason through a boy named Frank Bollock. Frank was an eighth grader at my grammar school. I was in the seventh grade and I was in love with Frank. He smoked Marlboro reds and played basketball. While I lusted after him he was dating people like Liv Tyler, who to this day makes me cringe every time I see her face.
Frank had an older sister named Barbara who went to Bronx Science. Barbara was my hero. I emulated her every motion and followed her around everywhere she went. Lucky for me she was flattered and took a liking to me. She gave me cool cloths and taught me how to smoke cigarettes. After school I would change out of my uniform and walk down to Cosmos the pizzeria that is sadly a Starbucks now. Our school prohibited and threatened suspension to anyone caught there after school. The reason for this was everyone went there to drink forties and smoke cigarettes. So of course I was in attendance daily. I would sit there for hours and watch Frank and listen to all of Barbaras tales of upper teen hood.
We would listen to N.W.A. on Franks boom box and wait for Barbaras twenty one year old friends to come down and buy us smokes and booze. It was approaching the end of the school year and I had already been banned from the end of the year school trip to Great Adventure for not following the no Cosmos rule. It was a regular Friday afternoon. I had forgotten my after school gear so I braved the Cosmos scene in my pleated skirt, oxford button down, knee socks and combat boots.
It was the same old crowd except for the guy sitting next to Frank who looked me up and down and said something under his breath that I could not decipher. I grabbed Barbara and asked her to meet me outside. She offered me some of her joint I said no and panted, Who is that guy with your brother? Oh, Vickie dont even fucking think about it! He is too old for you. I should have listened to her. We went back inside and Jason asked me to sit next to him while Frank went to the bathroom to de-seed the bag of weed he just bought from him.
He asked for my number. I gave it to him. He called me the next day and asked me to meet him after school. I spent the next day with a knot in my tummy the size of the lone star state. I was so nervous that I had forgotten to pack my home girl khakis and the beloved L.A. Raiders t-shirt that Barbara had given me the day before. I cannot even begin to fathom the ridiculous get ups I wore in those days.
I looked like a little boy with big tits. I had a Latin test that morning. I despised Latin. What was the point of learning a dead language anyway? Needless to say I failed it royally. It was one of those rainy, humid days that remind you that you take the sun for granted. The bell rang at three o clock and my anticipation was as palpable as the density of my cigarette smoke intermingling with the intense odors humidity invokes from city streets. I took a detour towards Madison Avenue. I was not ready. I had that feeling. You know the one that we somehow loose after we have experienced too much.
You can actually feel the transition from naivety to what lies directly after it. After a few minutes I began walking towards Lexington with nothing more than battery acid and trepidation in stomach.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; As I walked down to Lexington I saw him. He was wearing a white wife beater and enormous khaki pants. His hair was spiked up so high that it seemed as though he were wearing a crown of bronze tresses.
I approached him and all I could muster was a languid Whats up? He immediately grabbed my waist and without hesitation kissed me. I had an immediate Angela Chase Vs. Jordan Catalano I dont open that wide at the dentist reaction. I kept it too myself because I was much cooler than Angela or so I thought. Reeling from what up to that point was only my third kiss ever I asked if he was hungry. He said Yeah, starving. I know where we can go. Now, at this point I was expecting TGI Fridays perhaps a diner. I had no idea what was happening. We walked for a while in total silence. My mouth was so dry I couldnt form words.
We finally reached an apartment building a few blocks from Cosmos he grabbed my hand and we rushed up to the buzzer. He began to ring doorbells until suddenly we heard that loud buzz and click that New Yorkers with rent stabilized non-doorman apartments know so well. We ran in and he started climbing the stairs two steps at a time. Finally, we were on the roof. I knew something was about to happen. Something I would regret. Something that made me wish that I were actually at the library like I had told my mother I would be. It was raining, hard. He started to kiss me but not the way you kiss someone you deem as precious. He kissed me like a rapist would kiss his victim. My lip began to bleed and I pushed him away.
He apologized and offered me a cigarette. We sat on the asphalt in the rain and he held my hand. He stubbed out his cigarette and asked me to lie down. I did. After that everything is a bit of a haze. I remember him ripping my tights. I remember feeling a numbing insurmountable pain and then blackness. I must have passed out or performed some sort of astral projection. The next thing I remember was someone opening the door to the roof. It was a woman in her fifties wearing a nightgown. She started screaming at us to leave. There was no blood but I felt ripped to shreds. I realized that my under wear was gone. He must have ripped them off and thrown them. We ran down the stairs and he hailed me a cab.
I said I had no money. He gave twenty dollars and said he would call me. When I got home there was no one home. I thanked God that I didnt have to face my Jesus loving mother before I had time to shower. I didnt feel mature. I didnt feel like Brenda did after her and Dillon did it the night of the prom. It was as far from an Aaron Spelling production as you could get.
I felt disgusting. I was thankful that there was a condom involved. I remembered seeing it lying on the roof when I bent over to pick up my text book filled backpack.. I had never seen anything like that before. He called me that evening and asked if I wanted to go with him to his friends house in Queens after school the next day. I said yes. I dont know why. I guess I was curious. I wanted to be cool. I wanted to be a woman.
I was a child and I had no idea what I was getting myself into. The next school day came and went and I met him at the train station. After what seemed like an eternity of stops we got off. We went to a deli and he asked me if I had a dollar so that he could purchase a condom. I said I didnt. He looked at me and said What, do you wanna get fuckin pregnant? I searched my backpack and managed to scrounge up seventy-five cents.
It was enough. We walked for a while once again silence was the basis of our relationship. I was thirteen he was eighteen. We had absolutely nothing to talk about. We arrived at his friends apartment. It was in the worst neighborhood I had ever been in. We walked up four flights of garbage-infested stairs. When we got to the door it was ajar. We walked into a room cluttered with lawn furniture, empty beer bottles, over flowing ashtrays and baby paraphernalia.
We walked into the next room where two of the most gangster looking motherfuckers I had ever seen were sitting on a bed snorting cocaine. They were both wearing bandanas and they made weird little hand jesters to Jason as we entered the room. Next to the bed there was a crib with a baby screaming desperately as he clutched the bars, which I was sure, would be his destiny given the environment.
The two men snickered and Jason proceeded to speak to them in Pig Latin. Something I never took the time to master and I regretted it at that moment. They all began to laugh and high five one another as they looked at me. I thought I was going to cry. The two men left the room and left the baby bawling in the crib. Jason threw me on the bed. I regretted my very existence.
I hated myself for being there. He tore off my skirt and did not even bother taking off my underwear. I watched as he ripped the condom rapper with his teeth and put it on. I lay there frozen. He did not kiss me. He did not look at me. He fucked me hard, mercilessly and without feeling. When he came he laughed and looked up to his friends who had watched the whole thing from the door way and said Hey, who wants next?
I held back the tears that were about to run down my face and ran to the bathroom. I sat on the dirty linoleum floor and cried. I thought of my best friend Christian Alexis. He used to carry a razor blade in his pocket and slice his arms whenever he was sad. I wished I had that razor. I wished I had him. I realize now that he loved me. He knew where I was. He was the only one who knew. I tried to get it together. It was difficult because the three of them were all out there laughing.
I got up, washed my face and walked back into the room. I acted as tough as a girl in a catholic school uniform who had just been fucked in front of a baby and two gangsters could muster. I acted like I liked it. I acted like a man. I asked Jason for a cigarette. He lit two and handed me one. I said I had to go and could someone please walk me to the train. Jason looked perplexed. He expected me to be upset or scared.
I was but I was not going to loose it until I was in the safety of my bed. He walked me to the train and offered to come with me. I declined and said I wanted to be alone. The next day I went to school. Everybody knew. Jason had told Frank and Frank had told the whole school. He looked at me differently. He looked at me like I existed.
I liked it.
In the end all I ever wanted was for Frank to think I was as cool as all the girls he dated.
He came up to me in the cafeteria and asked if I was going to Cosmos after school I said yes. When we were dismissed he met me at the corner and we walked down Park Avenue together. He looked at me and said he was sorry. I didnt understand. He then explained to me that Jason was known for only having sex with virgins.
He had done it to his sister Barbara and to countless other girls he knew. I was numb. I thanked him for his candor and told him I was totally fine. Then we made some joke about our dickhead principal and he offered to buy me a slice of pizza. I was in Frank heaven. We got to the corner and there was Jason. Standing with the two men from the apartment in Queens. Frank walked away as Jason approached me. He asked if I wanted to go somewhere. I looked at his beautiful face and told him to fuck himself. He recoiled in disbelief for what seemed like an eternity. Time stood still. He looked me dead in the face and said You aint nothing but a stupid little bitch and I aint never gonna fuck your nasty pussy again and then he spat in my face.
I was mortified. I walked away wiping his saliva on the sleeve of my St. Ignatius Loyola blazer. The tears running down my face felt like lava. I did not look back. I did not get to eat pizza with Frank. I went home and cried for what seemed like centuries. Years passed and before I knew it I was in high school.
Far away from Jason Coleman and Frank Bollock. I wanted to go to Bronx Science, which is where Frank went. Even though I got in my parents were reluctant about allowing me to go to a public school no matter how prestigious it was .I had met a wonderful boy named Ariel who gave me an engagement ring and asked me to marry him.
I said yes.
I was seventeen. I was insane.&nbsp; He was a virgin when we met and wanted to know if I was.
I wasnt and it frightened and excited him all at once. The first time we had sex was in a small alcove outside the church of Scientology on the upper west side. L. Ron Hubbard would have been proud. I told him all about Jason and he grew quite with worry. Please tell me you used a condom, Vickie. That kid is such a dirty fucking scum bag.&nbsp; He took comfort in my reply of yes. I never told him the details because he was too sweet and beautiful and I felt dingy enough by comparison.
I owe Ariel so much. Not only because he was the best boyfriend I ever had to this day. I am aware we both very young and naive but he made sex feel pure to me. We were very much in love but it ended after high school. Ariels older brother Justin had been a friend of Jason and he remembered all of the stories he used to hear Jason tell Justin regarding his many, many conquests. Eventually Ariel got over the fact that the girl he had lost his virginity to had lost hers to what he called a minion of Satan.
A couple of months passed and Justin was home for the summer. We were drinking forties in Ariels room one lazy summer night and Jason came up in conversation. Justin proceeded to tell us that Jason had been stabbed to death that winter. I was not surprised. Jason had graduated from small pot deals to full-scale narcotics trafficking. Its funny how you can pretty much define who you are as a person by how you react to the ill fate of someone who has harmed you.
I hurt for Jason for a moment. I mourned what he had taken from me for another moment. Then I finished my forty of Crazy Horse and made love to my boyfriend.&nbsp;&nbsp; 
