When I was in high school I was remarkably shy. Despite the theory that opposites attract, I found myself attracted to someone equally as shy as myself, if not more so. As it happened Mr. Shy was also attracted to me. Although we were aware of our mutual attraction, since we were mutually shy, this attraction did not become much more than brief glances and smiles at each other across the classroom. We also shared periodic hallway conversations, which to an onlooker would have appeared to be conversations we were having with our shoes. In fact, upon witnessing such a hallway conversation, one of my friends commented that our attempt to ‘get together’ was pathetic and at the rate we were going it would take weeks before we even kissed, never mind anything else. I simply accepted this teasing and the truth behind it and resigned myself to the fate of a shy person in love with another shy person.
It was the combination of a very large party and even larger amounts of alcohol that broke the spell of shyness between us. I, of course, arrived at the party completely drunk and in my drunken state of mind I had but one thing, or rather person, on my mind: Mr. Shy. I made it my mission to find him, which was going to be no small feat, as I was in the midst of a house crammed so tightly full of people that it was nearly impossible to move. Yet my determination was boundless and upon hearing that Mr. Shy had not only arrived, but was also looking for me, I decided that immovability would not get in my way! The resolved of those who are drunk and horny is almost admirable.
I very slowly squeezed my way through the plethora of people, making my way through each room looking for him. I still clearly remember where we finally found each other: on the main floor of the house, near an entryway to the kitchen and not too far from a set of stairs. I’m not sure though that ‘finding each other’ would be the best way to describe it; it seemed more that we were instead fortuitously pushed together by the throng of people that surrounded us. As most people know, both shy and not, that alcohol tends to wash away all inhibition and shyness away – ‘liquid courage’ I believe is the common term.
When Mr. Shy and I were finally face to face, we were so overcome with desire for each other that we not only skipped the small talk, but we skipped any sort of greeting whatsoever. Weeks of brief conversations with little eye contact and across-the-room glances had been like a fortress surrounding our desire and attraction – and only through the marvels of alcohol this fortress had been breached. Not a word was uttered between us; our mouths were too busy exploring and being explored. Finally, Mr. Shy and I had really and truly connected!
In fact, we were so connected and intensely into each other that we became completely oblivious to our surroundings. It was only when we hit the bottom of the stairs on top of each other, did we realize that we had actually fallen down the stairs, like intertwined tumbleweed! In our passionate and frenzied making out, we hadn’t noticed that the swarm of drunken revellers around us had been gradually nudging us to the top of the stairs, where we eventually tipped over the top step. Although I was drunk, I’m fairly certain that we managed to remain in our state of making out as we tumbled downstairs. And if I also recall correctly, once we had actually completed the fall and realized what had happened, we simply stood up and resumed kissing.
At school the following Monday, I thought that certainly my friend who’d teased me prior would congratulate me, or at least stop teasing me – instead she pointed out the bruises all over my arms and laughed at me for falling down a flight of stairs with Mr. Shy!
It was the combination of a very large party and even larger amounts of alcohol that broke the spell of shyness between us. I, of course, arrived at the party completely drunk and in my drunken state of mind I had but one thing, or rather person, on my mind: Mr. Shy. I made it my mission to find him, which was going to be no small feat, as I was in the midst of a house crammed so tightly full of people that it was nearly impossible to move. Yet my determination was boundless and upon hearing that Mr. Shy had not only arrived, but was also looking for me, I decided that immovability would not get in my way! The resolved of those who are drunk and horny is almost admirable.
I very slowly squeezed my way through the plethora of people, making my way through each room looking for him. I still clearly remember where we finally found each other: on the main floor of the house, near an entryway to the kitchen and not too far from a set of stairs. I’m not sure though that ‘finding each other’ would be the best way to describe it; it seemed more that we were instead fortuitously pushed together by the throng of people that surrounded us. As most people know, both shy and not, that alcohol tends to wash away all inhibition and shyness away – ‘liquid courage’ I believe is the common term.
When Mr. Shy and I were finally face to face, we were so overcome with desire for each other that we not only skipped the small talk, but we skipped any sort of greeting whatsoever. Weeks of brief conversations with little eye contact and across-the-room glances had been like a fortress surrounding our desire and attraction – and only through the marvels of alcohol this fortress had been breached. Not a word was uttered between us; our mouths were too busy exploring and being explored. Finally, Mr. Shy and I had really and truly connected!
In fact, we were so connected and intensely into each other that we became completely oblivious to our surroundings. It was only when we hit the bottom of the stairs on top of each other, did we realize that we had actually fallen down the stairs, like intertwined tumbleweed! In our passionate and frenzied making out, we hadn’t noticed that the swarm of drunken revellers around us had been gradually nudging us to the top of the stairs, where we eventually tipped over the top step. Although I was drunk, I’m fairly certain that we managed to remain in our state of making out as we tumbled downstairs. And if I also recall correctly, once we had actually completed the fall and realized what had happened, we simply stood up and resumed kissing.
At school the following Monday, I thought that certainly my friend who’d teased me prior would congratulate me, or at least stop teasing me – instead she pointed out the bruises all over my arms and laughed at me for falling down a flight of stairs with Mr. Shy!
That would have made a great scene in a teen comedy or spoof film. lol.
ReplyDeleteoh my gosh, that's exactly the kind of scene i can imagine in a teen angst/ romantic comedy movie. so cute!
ReplyDelete