The Asshole Footprint

When I was fifteen and both youthfully exuberant and stupid, I did a nasty bit of thing with a girl of the same age. Her name will remain nameless.

She made it quite clear that she fancied me when we would all hang out around the local Burger King during lunch break. One day I took her back to mine and we fooled around for about an hour and a half. It was fun. She had a zero point past which she wasn't willing to go and I pushed it as far as I could before the entire affair had to be considered a write-off. I made my excuses, showed her out and went to a friend's house party with a serious case of blue balls.

After that, she spread the word that she and I had a thing going on. Now, this girl was putting me in a difficult position. She was hot. Very hot. But she also aroused feelings of contempt in my buddies. Being a fifteen year old guy, I was a coward in the face of my friends' judgement. I liked her and I thought she was hot (I had eyes) but I didn't feel the vibe enough to risk outing my desire. So I let it be known that we in fact did not have a thing going on.

The girl, as is understandable, was displeased. I had made her look stupid. So she told people she dumped me. My reaction was of the Wayne's World "Stacey, get the net" variety. My lack of engagement with her feelings infuriated the girl and she became an un-fan of yours truly.

Several months later (or maybe a year - timelines are hazy due to excessive marijuana exposure) we bumped into each other. She was still very hot and I gave less of a shit about what my friends thought. We went back to my place and hooked up. While there, I hatched a cunning plan that most teenage boys have attempted at one time or another. I told her that if she gave me a blowjob I would go down on her afterwards. She went for it and it was good fun. After I popped and she went to the loo to brush her teeth, she came back and got all flirty about her end of the bargain. Being spent (and youthful and stupid) I reneged fearlessly on my word and showed her the door.

I was an asshole. In retrospect, the story is funny, but my assholery is plain for all to see.

I resolved, years later, when I had matured (read: grown a beard), that I would email her and apologise. That's when I realised that I didn't remember her surname. Oops. Well, I remembered it but I had never seen it written down. I Googled the spelling could think of and got nothing. I emailed a couple of likely cases and came up dry. Until today. Today, through a rare flash of inspiration, I used a spelling I hadn't thought of and sure enough, poof, there she was. I have no idea if my adolescent insensitivity even figures in her day-to-day life and I very much doubt it. However, as an emotional ecologist, it is my duty to reduce my asshole footprint. Wow that nicely dresses up an apology, doesn't it?

Anyway, I'm emailing her today and we'll see what happens.

P.S. - Maybe there's a way of asshole offsetting? It might work. Sha, and monkeys might fly out of my butt.