I Got The Hook-Up

Very funny post over at The Letter D about missed romantic opportunities. He recalls going to a 1-on-1 study session in a girl's dorm room during his formative college days, and not realizing until much later that she was after, let's say, more than his lecture notes. As he puts it:

She was reasonably attractive. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her, but for reasons that I still can't figure out, I was completely clueless about her intentions. I couldn't have come across any gayer if I had redecorated her room while I was there.

This has happened to me more than once. I've been in a variety of situations that clearly should resulted in sex, and yet I always make some crucial misstep early on, rendering all possibility of actual coitus moot right from the start. More often than not, the evening that would lead for most guys to a night of passion leads me to late-night bleary-eyed viewings of The Big Lebowski on DVD.

Once, during my freshman year at UCLA, I was hanging out with a girl (whose name I'll leave out here to spare her crippling, life-ending shame) in her dorm room when she asked if it would bother me to have her "change." I thought she meant taking a break and putting on a sweater or something like that. But instead, she took her top off. And wasn't wearing a bra underneath.

And then, a moment later, she put another shirt on and it was all over.

Now, male and/or lesbian readers, I ask you...in this situation, what would you do? If a girl you were just getting to know, a girl you're attracted to, undressed in a suggestive manner in front of you, would you:

1) Grab her by the arm, pull her close to you and plant one right on her lips
2) Ask her to go out with you that Friday Night or
3) Make up an incredibly lame excuse about needing to leave soon to DJ the campus radio station no one ever listens to, ever

Guess which one I went for! Brilliant, eh? It's this same suave, sophisticated manner with the ladies that allows for my 10 hours of daily blogging.

And you've got to remember, 18 year old UCLA Freshman Lons is one randy individual. He makes present-day jaded 26 year old Lons look like a Viagra-less Bob Dole.

At that point in my life, I'd had about as much action as a Lars von Trier film. As in, not much at all. Sex was on my mind constantly. And yet, there I was, not 3 feet away from a fetching topless woman, and all I can think about is how quickly I could remove myself from the room without actually knocking over any furniture. I can't explain it, folks. It just happened.

And there are more examples. Not too many, as Los Angelinas aren't exactly throwing themselves at me with reckless abandon, but enough to make me sometimes want to bash myself in the head with a hammer as penance for my extreme stupidity.