Thursday, January 14, 2016

Puberty and Hair Rape

Montreal 1987. Either the Crescent or L'Europa hotel, I can't remember. A topic of conversation came up while we were all good and drunk where we discussing the first time jerking off. Don't worry, I won't go into the details but the jist of it all was the absolute eye opening surprise we all admitted to when we realized it was doable and what it felt like. I can remember my comment and contribution to the exchange, “I damn near fell down in the shower!”

That ends that topic. Here's the other one.

Every young teen boy hasn't much clue how to approach a girl, nor did I. My very, very first attempt, at 14, was completely unconscious and without malevolent motivation. I don't know what came over me.

It happened while we were all lined up in Mr Agilillo's science class, getting ready to be marched to cafeteria for lunch period. We used to pronounce his name as Angi-Lilly-O. He'd constantly correct us, “It's Angi-Lilo,” but we never did say it correctly. Anyways...I was standing there looking into the blonde hair of this small girl, Bethany. I kept looking and noticed how fine and soft it looked. I guess the entire world fell away as the only thing mattered was her hair, otherwise I probably wouldn't have done what I was about to do.

I reached out and started petting it. This was completely unconscious, impulsive and w/o any malicious content. I had to feel her hair, something in me demanded it. So I did it.

I got about three strokes in when Bethany spun around, held up her hand and her fingers splayed out with those tiny razor sharp nails pointing at me. I leaned back quickly expecting to be scratched. She never did. We both just stood there, looking at one another for a second or two when...

...every kid there who saw it, yell out a collective “Whoa!” That's quickly followed by accusations of my “falling in love” with her, or a “Ron likes Bethany!” The poor girl, she turned beet red and she herself, being a young teen girl, had NO idea on how to handle it. I think I turned the same color too.

Bethany then starts to get angry, more probably at the attention we both were receiving. She blurts out, “I'm gonna get my brothers to kick your ASS!” She's then circled by the other girls, to provide protection against a rapist like me.

“Wha—Wha—What?” I say to her. I felt at the moment I had done nothing wrong. The bell rings and we're all marched to the lunchroom. Within minutes, I totally forget the whole episode as not counting for anything. Big f'ing deal. The boys who surrounded me at the same lunch table we all sat at, asked me NO questions. It was forgotten...I figured.

But the girls wouldn't let it go. I completely violated her personal space. The rest of the day they get very inquisitive about my motives, ask me Q's about “Do I like Bethany” or this one which was more common, “Why don't you apologize to her?” I felt neither one was worth my time or effort. I felt it was nothing as soon as it was over. But as the school day passed, they were easily getting riled up as they ruminated over it. I was finally warned by another girl I “ought to” apologize because Bethany was getting really pissed over it and all the attention she was getting. Not from me, but the attention she was getting from the other girls about the incident.

I figured I had better too eventually as I didn't want this to spiral out of control and meet her nutcase brothers on the street. Plus, it would probably end the girls interrogation of Bethany about it all.

I managed to get her alone. Alone being out of earshot of the other girls who had initially circled the wagons around her. I made a half sincere, shitty young teen boy apology to her. It worked though. Out of deep curiosity, she asks:

“Why did you do it? She was confused, being a just turned fourteen year old girl. She had no experience to process this or even how to respond to it.

I tell her that I didn't know why. I really didn't. I just did it. I wanted to feel her hair. I think when I mentioned that it was very soft is what cooled her jets. A compliment. No lie, it was surprisingly soft to me. I had felt girl's hair a zillion times when I was younger, romping on lawns, through games and such, but this time it was WAY different.

Later that day, I sat in Judy Stachurski's English class and as she sat at her desk, shot me this look and then started giggling.

“Oh Jesus” I think to myself, “Even the teachers know now.”

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