I was 21.
Her name was Theresa.
I’d been in a relationship with a woman for five years, and (obviously) we weren’t having sex. Despite other offers, I remained faithful to her. And then she dumped me. I’m both pissed off that I passed up opportunities to lose my virginity and completely emotionally trashed. So a pal of mine decides he’s going to drag me off on a ski trip to take my mind off her.
We borrow my parents’ car and go to Reno, and end up having a few drinks at a strip club (just sodas for me, I was driving) and decide, in our hormone-addled state, that we ought to visit the nearby Mustang Ranch, just to check it out. (this is after I inadvertently proposed to one of the dancers, but that’s another story) But we don’t know how to get there. Being geeks, we think “What would we do if we were characters in a role-playing game? I know…let’s ask a cab driver!”
So we find a cab, and as we’re approaching the cabbie I tell my friend, “Look, don’t be crude here…y’know, don’t embarass me.” He assures me that he won’t, and asks the cabbie “We were just at a strip club and were trying to find something more…hands-on.” The cabbie interrupts and says “Ya mean Pussy?” Since then, when looking for the right word, we jokingly say “How would a cabbie put it?”
Anyway, he gives us directions to the Mustang, and tells us about the best way to pick a prostitute, etc, but suggests we go instead to the Old Bridge Ranch, just down the road from the Mustang. (Apparently he goes to these places a lot) So we drive on out, visit the sterile and antiseptic Mustang, and proceed to the Old Bridge Ranch. It has a much cozier atmosphere, and we hang out for a while. Finally, one woman says to me, “Look, are you going to do it or not? Come back to a room and let’s talk about it.”
So I went, and, well, it was like 2am by then, and I was not exactly a tower of iron will, so we ended up getting down to business. I’m not sure how long we went, but my friend said “I was waiting long enough that I got tired of having beautiful half-naked women hit on me.” It definitely helped drive the demons of my first GF away.
I don’t have any regrets, although I might have if I hadn’t found the handful of Old Bridge Ranch matchbooks my friend scattered around the car before I returned it to my parents.
Sorry about the long and somewhat digressive post, but it’s such a silly story I love telling it.