Monique (4:07)
So I have always had a thing for crazy. I mean, it's pretty obvious. The last time I was here at Body storytelling was for OkCupid Night. I was there on a date with someone from OkCupid where my profile picture has me wearing psycho clown makeup and wearing a straight jacket. When other girls were writing movie stars names on their notebooks, I was having dirty fantasies about the Joker. And as you can imagine, I have dated a lot of insane people. There was the military sniper who turned out to be a con artist telling me what he thought I wanted to hear, which, you know, good on him. I kept dating him for a while after I found out. There was the pathological liar who used to tell me the most amazing stories about working in a bondage strip club undercover for the CIA. And then there was the paranoid schizophrenic who introduced himself as Satan When I first met him. It didn't work out for him to be my lord and master, but we are still friends. But you know, you never really forget your first. To give you a little background for this story, I was living in a really ritzy suburb called Naperville, Illinois. I came out as bisexual at the age of 13 years old. I got surprisingly little shit for it. But when I met the girl who was the subject of this story, I had only ever had one girlfriend before. Her name was Tanya. And you know, she was a lovely girl, but she turned out to be straight, you know, like they do. So when I met Monique, I was absolutely not ready for her. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She looked exactly like her name. Sounded like a French princess. She had these clouds of blonde curls and these big blue eyes and she was even shorter than me. But you wouldn't mistake her for a doll because there was something about her that was just larger than life. She was a photo model for catalogs and stuff since she was in her freshman year of high school. People never believed when they met her just how tiny she actually was. And, you know, it wasn't just how she looked either. She was the kind of girl, she got good grades without even trying. She told these jokes that made you feel like you were going to go to hell if you laughed at them, but then you did anyway. And she was so confident that she could be interested in fiction and role playing games and all the nerdy things I loved and walk into a party and be like, what? And you know the best thing from my point of view of the four lesbians in my school? She liked me. So when she asked me out, I told her, you know what? I would love to go out with you, but I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing with women. This is going to be awkward and terrible and I'm sorry in advance. She said, you know what? That's okay, I'll teach you. So we'd been together for about a week, you know, making out between classes and the like. She shows up at my place. She walks in dressed to the nines in a pencil skirt and a very dapper suit coat. Then she takes off the suit coat and underneath she's wearing a fishnet shirt with no bra. And she starts kissing me. And suddenly I think I know exactly what to do. So she drags me off to my bedroom. She pushes me down on the bed. We're tearing each other's clothes off, except for the fishnet shirt. She left that on for me. And she's going down on me and I'm burying my hands in those curls of hers and they're so springy I can hardly hold onto them. And then after I came all over the place, she was the one lying back on the bed and I was fingering her. And she was making the most amazing noises. And when I did more of that, she made even better noises. And it was great. And then I decided I wanted to go down on her. And she was like, oh, yeah? Yeah, go down on me. I started licking that pussy like it was delicious ice cream. And it was awkward and I was really bad at it. And she kind of grabbed my head and tried to move it around the right way, and that didn't really work. She started giving me some tips. She told me the thing about how you should try spelling out letters on her clit with the tip of my tongue. And that was working pretty well. And she was starting to moan very nicely. I was about halfway through her name for the 20th time when my bedroom door opens. At this point, I was still Living with my mother. She'd gotten home from work early and was sometimes kind of spacey about knocking. Now, luckily, we'd already had the mom, I'm kind of halfway gay conversation back when I was dating Tanya, so it wasn't as awkward as it could have been otherwise. And she said exactly the same thing, which was, now, don't you think your girlfriend would like to come to dinner? And I was classy enough that I didn't say the obvious, which was, mom, we've both already eaten. Now, I do not remember what we had for dinner that night, just that there was a lot of staring down at our plates, not quite making eye contact. Anyway, let's fast forward through the next month of us dating, because it was pretty great. We were seeing each other all the time. We couldn't keep our hands off each other. We were having sex all the time. She was just insatiable. She would drag me into her car or utility closet or once onto the empty stage in our auditorium and didn't even pull the curtains. And I could barely keep up with her. And it was intense and it was fantastic. And in retrospect, maybe if we'd spent a little more time talking and a little less time with our tongues down each other's throats and various other bits of anatomy, I would have had a little more clue about what was coming next. At the end of that month, she said to me, you know what? I want to go on a real date. I want to go dancing. And you know what my girl wants, my girl gets. So we get all dolled up and we go take my car down to the local club that will let in minors, which is called Chasers, because you have to bring your own alcohol and your own hip flask, but they'll sell you the coke chasers. So we get there, and pretty much the first thing that happens is she points across the dance floor and says, oh, hey, that's my ex boyfriend, Carl. Like, oh, okay, that's cool. Seems like you guys are still okay with each other. That's cool. We dance for a couple of songs. I go to the bar to go get a couple of sodas. I come back and no Monique. I look in the bathroom where people are drinking their vodka out of their flasks. I look in the smoking patio, and then I think to look in this dark little alcove full of velvet couches where people go to make out. The first thing I see is Carl sitting there alone next to a pile of coats. A pile of coats that is suspiciously exactly the same height as Monique. And as I walk over to him, I notice two things in quick succession. That his hand, which had been moving under the coat, freezes when I come walking up. And he looks guilty as fuck. And I know exactly where my girlfriend is. So I say to him, hey, Carl, have you seen Monique? And he says, no, I have no. And at some point, he'd stolen his hand back and was wringing them on his lap. And then I reached over to the pile of the coats and I patted it on the head, and her curls were just as springy as they ever were. And I said to him, okay, well, you know, if you see my girlfriend, please tell her that I'm looking for her. And then I walked away before I said something I'd regret. I was out on the smoking patio, and she comes tearing out there about a minute later. She is out of breath. She is disheveled. She's still rearranging her stockings and her skirt, and tears are already streaming down her face. And she grabs my arm and says, please, we have to talk about this. I can explain what happened. I say, okay, what happened? She says, I love you, but I need something from him that you can't give me, that no woman can give me. I need to get pregnant so that I can give birth to the Antichrist and bring a new reign of darkness upon the world. She proceeded to explain that the shadow vampires that lived in her dreams had told her that she was of their bloodline and that it was her destiny to bridge the world of the spiritual and the mundane. They also spoke to her sometimes while she was awake. They weren't nice to her. And, you know, at this point, I started trying to comfort her because how can you be mad when someone's just doing what they think they have to do? We ended up breaking up about a week later. But, you know, not because of the whole Antichrist thing. I mean, like I said, I like crazy. It works for me if you want to get pregnant with a shadow vampire child, you know, tell me that. Don't tell me you want to be with just me and go out dancing. And also, how do you have the weight of the future on your mind for a whole month and not even tell me? You know, maybe I could have helped or something. So I'm still on the lookout for my perfect lunatic. And I still wonder what happened to Monique, whether she ever did give birth to that Antichrist.