For some reason, this story always sticks in my head, and lately I felt it would make for an entertaining post. I hope you agree.
Picture it: Springfield, OH, November 2004.
I had recently been talking to a guy who will remain nameless. Not to protect the innocent, but to not give this horrendous individual more attention than he deserves. Long story short, this tale does not ultimately end well, but within the confines of the time period this story will retell, it is a pleasant experience.
I invited this certain individual over one evening to see a play on campus with me. We had a good time, and he ended up spending the night. This was our first time doing anything together more than going to a bar or having dinner, so it was a fun evening. The night was very innocent, let the record show, but as I saw him off the next day, he noticed there was a hickey on my neck.
He said, "What's that on your neck?" in a tone that clearly indicated he knew I didn't burn myself with a curling iron or trip and fall on a vacuum hose.
Playfully, I replied, "Oh, I don't know..." and kind of smiled at him. He gave me a semi-confused look back and got in his car and drove away.
A few days go by and we are talking on the phone, and I tell him that I had fun the night he stayed over. He sounded kind of unsettled, and replied, "Honestly, I was kind of upset that morning when I left?" I asked him why he would be upset, seeing as how I thought he had a good time. He replied:
"Well, you had a hickey on your neck."
"Yeah, that was from you."
"....oh, it was? I didn't realize I gave you one. Really? Wow, that's embarrassing, sorry"
He thought that I had someone else over and got a hickey from them in a recent enough amount of time that it wouldn't have faded by the time I invited him to stay over? I'm not sure what the technical definition of slutty is, but I'm sure that would qualify for at least one of its meanings. And I'll have you know, I am no slut.
I've always enjoyed thinking about that. Imagining him driving home thinking even though our new "relationship" or sorts had just started and wasn't exclusive, that I would be promiscuous enough to have multiple people to choose from that could give me hickeys. Who even gives hickeys these days anyway?
Later on in the week, I was changing after dance class and our male instructor whom I always assumed loved it walked past me and said:
"I see that thing on your neck, you bad boy."
"I, uhm....it's razor burn...?"