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Birds do it, Bees do it

September 6, 2008

Slice of Life Sunday is a meme dedicated to preserving the accounts of events cut out of the lives of average people just like you and me from all over the world. And like having ice cream with your pie, there is more to this meme than meets the eye – it’s a meme a` la mode. I hope you will join me and share a Slice of your Life.

 

 

Turning twenty-one is a very exciting time. For many, this milestone signifies entry into adulthood. Probably the greatest tradition of celebrating a 21st birthday is displaying a legitimate ID at the stroke of midnight to an accommodating bartender who acknowledges your rite of passage with a free drink. The remainder of the evening/morning is spent getting totally smashed, and with any luck at all, the best memory of your celebration will be not remembering anything at all. For me, turning twenty-one was not about becoming of legal age to drink. I had been married for five years and had more than my share of drinks through these years in the local taverns with my husband. The bartenders knew we were married and to them a marriage license was sufficient proof of my being old enough to drink. No, my 21st birthday celebration was not spent in the traditional sense, except, it did begin a time of experimentation.

 

My husband had returned home from serving his time in Vietnam in the winter of 1972. We had moved from a rented apartment to a rented house that spring. For the first time, we had a huge livingroom and a very large yard. We spent several months painting and making the house our home. Being that my birthday falls in the latter part of August, we decided to have a big party to celebrate my 21st birthday. We invited all our friends for what was to be the grand finale of a series of barbeques held that summer. We had steaks and burgers on the grill, beer and Boones Farm wine in the coolers, and an array of drugs on the kitchen table. The stereo blasted all evening with hits by Moody Blues, CSN&Y, The Eagles, Rod Stewart, and, my personal favorite, Elvis. It was the age of sex, drugs, and rock & roll. We danced, we drank, and we passed the joints freely. Couples would disappear for a few minutes and return with unembarrassed looks and wrinkled clothing. Even my husband and I made an extended visit to the bathroom. It was a wild party. I didn’t know just how wild it was going to get after the majority of our guests left.

 

I vaguely remember people leaving. I do remember putting the leftover food in the refrigerator. I was closing the refrigerator door when a couple came out of the bathroom. I was surprised to see this as they were both married, but, not to each other. I decided to handle this delicate situation by offering the unashamed couple a beer for the road. I grabbed myself another beer and a joint and headed for the livingroom. My husband came in sometime later to tell me everyone was gone but his cousin and his wife, who I will call Bob & Carol, were going to spend the night. At that point, I was lying on the floor and took a hit off a joint before I passed it on and then passed out.

 

I have no idea how much time passed before I awoke. My head was pounding and it was hard to see in the dark room. I could hear moaning sounds that seemed like they were right next to me. I propped myself up on my elbow and tried to focus my eyes. My eyes finally adjusted to the darkness and I could see the moaning sounds were coming from a couple in the midst of copulation in the middle of my livingroom floor. Then a memory made its way through my blurry brain and I realized Bob & Carol were spending the night and had obviously thought no one would wake up during their lovemaking. I was about turn over and go back to sleep when I felt John’s hands move up and down my body. But his touch didn’t feel right. His hands seemed heavier. And he was nibbling on my earlobe, which he had never done before. I was trying to make sense out of these new sensations when Bob whispered in my ear, “I thought you were never going to wake up.”

 

I sat up with a joint and demanded, “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?!” It was then it finally registered that it was Bob’s foreplay that had awakened me, but, if Bob was here, then who was pounding their way to a climax a few feet away. Just as the question registered in my brain, so did the answer. “What the hell is going on here?!!!” I demanded as I struggled to stand up. “Hey, take it easy. We can have a lot fun. It is your birthday after all.” Bob said, tying to reason with me. By this time I was on my feet. “Yes, it is my birthday and I want ALL of you to get the f*ck out of my house. NOW!” With that said I stumbled my way to the bathroom and preceded the bow to the throne the rest of the day.

 

I would like to say I had enough anger and self-esteem to throw my cheating husband out after my rude awakening. But, I didn’t. At first I tried to tell myself it was all the alcohol and drugs that had led John to want to take part in such a disgusting act. He explained the next day that Bob had told him about several such encounters he and his wife had participated in. In fact, he assured me there was even an entire swingers club of couples in our area that met at a party and drew keys from a bowl to see who would be spending the night together. John spent the next several weeks trying to convince me swinging was perfectly acceptable and I was just being a prude. Unwittingly I opened the door to my dissent to the seamy side of life with the grandstand statement, “If I were to have sex with another man, you wouldn’t be able to stand it.”  John feigned a look of puzzlement and after a moment of thought said, “You may be right. But then, I guess we will never know, will we?”

 

So there it was. The challenge. In my naïve way of thinking, I convinced myself if I were to have sex with Bob then John would realize how wrong he was, how much he loved me and how much he couldn’t stand having another man touch me. I even had daydreams about how at the last moment, John would tear the Bob off me and tell me how crazy he must have been to think this is what he wanted for us and our relationship. I sure was one stupid 21-year-old!

 

We entered into our period of wife swapping. No, John did not mind at all for me to have sex with other men, in fact the more the merrier was his motto. Although I refused to join the local swinger’s club, I overcame my humiliation of my husband’s willingness to share with the help of drugs. I was to learn just how low in moral fiber he was during the next nine years of our marriage. As long as I was stoned, I could deal with the adult book stores, adult movie houses, and wife swapping with Bob and Carol. A good line of cocaine would even ease the total disgust I had when I learned that John swung both ways. I kept myself so stoned that I even convinced myself that as long as he was screwing men then I didn’t have to worry about him leaving me for another woman. He was sick, depraved and truly evil to the very core of his being. I was timid, insecure and lived on drugs. Shortly after my 30th birthday, I awoke one morning to see the reflection of my sunken eyes in a mirror. I had gotten to the point where I couldn’t even get out of bed without the help of a line of cocaine. This vision repulsed me so much that I got up and ran through the house like a mad woman gathering up our stockpile of drugs as I went. I took them all to the bathroom and flushed them down the toilet. It was over. There were no more sex parties. I never used cocaine again. I smoked one joint nine years later and none since. And it was the beginning of the end of our marriage, which would come a few years later after I learned just how immoral and loathsome my husband really was.

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6 Comments leave one →
  1. September 7, 2008 8:46 am

    WOW.. Although you had an awesome 21st birthday. I understand how a cheating husbands could wreck the whole marriage. This took strength and courage to write this. That is a matter of choice. I am glad you are doing good now. Thanks for sharing… See you next Sunday…

  2. September 7, 2008 11:25 pm

    This must have been so difficult to cope with. I would have been beside myself. How deplorable of your husband to subject you to that. I am glad you saw the light but so sorry you had to go through that in the first place.

  3. September 7, 2008 11:36 pm

    I don’t particularly remember my 21st birthday. I’ve never been a drinker, so didn’t have that rite of passage to set the day apart for me. I remember when I turned 20 a very good-looking young man that I knew only slightly told me that I was now officially nothing – neither teenager nor adult, just nothing. lol I would so like to have impressed him with my wit and good looks. Didn’t happen. Sigh!

  4. September 9, 2008 2:34 pm

    You never cease to amaze me. The “deep dark secrets” of your life , you so willingly share with your readship. I know I don’t think I could be so open. You my dear have had one hell of a ride! I think your life has been much better off without that man! Have a great day and thanks for sharing.

  5. September 9, 2008 9:13 pm

    You quit cold turkey? wow!!! I could never have done that! Just walked away…that’s amazing and absolutely nothing to be ashamed of! You’re not alone in what happened but you did gain strength and wisdom from it and that is wonderful! I can’t believe you flushed it all! lol….good for you!!

  6. September 16, 2008 3:57 pm

    Oh my Cricket, I know this story all too well. Good riddence! He was a Loser with a capital L. BTW, I have a little something for you…stop over and get it! Big Hugs for ya!

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