You Got to Lose to Know How to Win

I already knew from her photos that she wasn't a willowy chick. On this evening she was wearing a business jacket and skirt that were just tight enough and short enough to be interesting. She was a nice, solid New York girl, and I liked what I was seeing.

She must have understood that, because she surprised me by saying, "Would you like to see the rear view too?" and then she turned around. Her ass was round and sturdy. I liked that too, and I knew that I didn't need to say anything about it. She looked pleased when she turned back.

As we were leaving, I said, "I'll take you home."

"It's okay, really, I got here by a car service and there is a line of them waiting right down the street by Broadway."

I decided to tell her about my own trip, "I got here by bus myself."

She found that funny, "You poor guy, you had to take two of them from where you are, right?" That was true; those were the Bx15 and then the Bx1.

"I'll survive, it's not that bad. By the way, what kind of name is Panken?"

"I'm Jewish, but I'm probably the least observant one you'll ever meet."

"Not necessarily. I've met plenty of those in school over the years. In New York, it's as much an ethnic identity as a religion."

"Right, I wouldn't actually say I was German, which is where my family was originally from."

Germany: the Jews there had been among the most assimilated in Europe but that hadn't saved them. I was sure I'd find out more about her background, but that was a topic for another time.

I walked her to the first car in the taxi line. She said, "You did say, Sunday, right?"

"I sure did."

Just as she opened the door, she leaned over and kissed me, although it was only the merest peck on my cheek. Then I saw the car turn left on Broadway and I watched its taillights for as long as I could see them.

On the bus ride home, some delayed reactions hit me. My first thought was, I guess I have a girlfriend now. It hadn't been as difficult as I would have expected. Then I was excited yet shaky at the same time. Does she really like me or am I just convenient for the moment? Yes, guys have such concerns too, although we usually don't talk about them much. Well, I did have two close friends that I could trust.

Come on, don't be such a jerk, she obviously wants you. Much later I would find out that there were women who could fake it, usually in a quest for money or status. In 1977 I had neither of those.

I also let myself have my first explicitly sexual thoughts about Janet. Well, these weren't truly the first, but they weren't subtle and I let my imagination run free. I could picture her in her gray jacket, but her skirt, stockings, and shoes were off. She was straddling me cowgirl style on a couch, the one in my parent's living room. Where they were was not clear; it was my fantasy and I could have it any way I wanted it.

She was enjoying it as her hips collided with my bare crotch. I had never experienced such a thing, but I could vividly imagine it. I knew a guy who had shown me Danish porno magazines that depicted such sexual acts in explicit detail.

Of course, that first coupling wasn't going to happen on my parents' couch, but more likely on the black vinyl seat in the back of my old Impala. That seemed pretty good to me.

I got an erection right there on the Bx15, and I had to cross my legs to hide it. It was obvious that I would have this fantasy again when I was alone in my bed later that evening.

I wondered: Is Janet going to have her own fantasy about me tonight?

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There will probably be sequels to this, but I haven't written any of them yet.

The college newspaper described here really existed. It got away with everything until it mixed the Catholic religion into the porn mix and got defunded by the students in 1979. (They paid for the publication with an "activity fee.") Times had changed, although, as in most elections, I suspect the majority of students didn't bother to vote.