I‘m twenty-four years old and I’ve never been in a relationship. Well, unless you count those fiery three weeks in 6th grade when I dated a girl and we changed our AIM names to things like “ILuvUxoxo143” and I bought her soccer ball earrings for Valentine’s day because I was romantic as shit. But if we erase this fling from the record books, that’s twenty-four years of single solidarity. How did this happen? Because relationships and sex are two of my greatest insecurities and I’d like to tell you how this came to be.
It all started in fifth grade with the discovery of porn. I can still remember the first video that I ever watched: it was this grainy old thing, that looked like it had been filmed with a toaster, of a girl stripping and dancing on a chair. It was glorious.
I recently worked at a 2-week long children’s camp in Spain where the hours were, I shit you not, from 8:00 a.m. to 2/3 a.m. when we finished our nightly meeting. There were ten counselors running the camp and in order to maintain our sanity, we played little games with each other throughout the day.
The person who lost the game each day got messed with in some way by the other counselors. The first day, the girl who lost got drawn on with permanent marker (mustache, unibrow, goatee, penis). It was a funny and relatively tame punishment.
I lost the next day. Our camp went to the beach twice a day and it was decided that I would have to wear a bikini and have makeup put on my face. The fuck? That’s quite a difference in degree of punishment. That’s like stealing a beer in the U.S. v.s. in Saudi Arabia: a slap on the wrist or the removal of it.
Semana Santa (or Holy Week) has come and passed here in Madrid. It’s a holiday that consists of Ku Klux Klan members parading down the street while carrying effigies of Jesus Christ and the Virgin Mary.
Just kidding about the KKK part. There’s some religious significance attached to the attire. Although, I suppose there’s a possibility that some of them are actually in the KKK. I mean, if I were in the KKK, this seems like it would be a pretty sweet gig. You get to wear your favorite outfit, and who doesn’t like to look their best? You get to carry a giant cross with Jesus on it which, although it isn’t burning, is still a close second. AND you get to look like Patrick Star dressed up as a ghost, which I feel is something that we can all enjoy.