Posted by PB Curtis
A loss of innocence. That’s the downside.
A shag. That’s the upside.
Having thus thought critically and comprehensively about the consequences of my actions – as far as the current blood flow permitted – I went ahead and lost my virginity. I didn’t lose much innocence, but then it wasn’t much of a shag. Indeed, I was rather put out by the tiny dribble of innocence that was forfeit. I had expected a much grander shift in my perceptions, more akin to the seismic shudder of an entire nation as it hurtles into post-modern cynicism upon the discovery that trusted politicans are routinely duplicitous and venal. I had expected sex to be like Watergate; instead it was like… well, like eating an apple.
And boy, that whole situation was really wearing sandals in the pigsty. An apple? Eve may well have rued, back in the Garden of Eden. Of all the bland, jejune foodstuffs to be busted for! she may well have exploded. Why I oughta! she possibly added, although no-one would have been paying enough attention to her to stop and wonder why she was turning into Jimmy Cagney. God would already be elsewhere, having puffed off in a huff; Adam, newly gifted with sight, would be all like Whoa! Check out those babies!, and the snake would be all like Dude! Where’s my legs?
“What are you thinking, PB?” she whispered, her face so close to mine that we were both cross-eyed as we looked at each other.
Damn. I was thinking… but no, I can’t. Here we are, two freshly-minted ex-virgins, still attempting to bask in the communal glow of what neither of is is ready to accept was absolutely not a momentous experience… surely, this above all others, this is the time for honesty? Isn’t it?
“I was thinking about how rubbish apples are.”
All she actually said was “What?”, but what she actually meant was “I hate you.” And there it was, bang! There was my loss of innocence. Lying was not a sin; it was good, it always had been, it always would be, and I was going to have to make up for lost time.
“I was thinking how much I love you right now, and trying to think of the very opposite of what this feeling must be, and thought that would have to be the dullest, blandest thing in the world. So, er, apples.”
There. I felt that that was at least as good as Tricky Dicky saying “I am not a crook”, but she looked unconvinced. She was too young to say harumph with any conviction. But I knew she wanted to.