Well kiddies it’s story time again. So let’s jump in the Way Back Machine and travel way back, all the way to the year 1994. A year that finds our hero sporting an Aqua-Net supported hair wave, some form of Stussy or Mossimo clothing and shorts that likely used a draw-string. It was a perilous time to be sure…
In 1994 I was 17 years old and a Junior in High School. I had been able to pull myself away from my computer enough times to actually find myself a girlfriend. However, my girlfriend went to a school in the neighboring town. So, yes, I did end up sounding a 
lot like Anthony Michael Hall in Breakfast Club where he has a mythical girlfriend in Niagra Falls. Our distance forced our relationship to be one of phone conversations and impromptu weekend trysts usually under the guise of going “Ice Skating.”
Now “Ice Skating” originally was code for nothing but actual ice skating. As our relationship blossomed into an on-again off-again teenage romance over about 2 years, I turned 16 and got a car, and her mom started dating her eventual fiance. These two factors would be key in the tale I am about to tell.
This girlfriend, whom we shall call Natasha, was often left alone on Friday and Saturday nights. Being raised by a single mother, she was raised with as an independent woman, one more than capable of taking care of herself for an evening. Me, as a 17 year old boy, saw this as a prime situation to at least round 2nd base on the regular with a cautious eye on the 3rd base coach for the motion to approach. So I would spend many a night at her house alone, just the two of us, “Ice Skating” while her mom was out on dates.
In 1994 Natasha’s mom got married and with that Natasha moved in at her step fathers house. This would seem to signal an end to our tawdry nights of teenage debauchery. However we were presented with an unbelievable opportunity. Natasha’s parents were going on their Honeymoon and leaving her home alone for the week they would be gone. I know, I can barely still believe it myself.
So the plan was hatched.
The night her parents went out of town I followed, what had become, a very familiar pattern to teenage freedom. My house was a single story structure with a very large floor plan. With my parents room being at the far rear part of the house. I would wait for them to go to bed and then sneak out of my room, carefully tip toe to the dining room which was the farthest point from my parents room. I would then slowly crank open the window, knowing that on the second turn it would always emit a low squeak I was sure could be heard for 1/2 a mile.
Once out the window I would reach in and turn the crank from the outside to close the window all the way to the point where only my hand could escape. This way I could open it back up later upon my return. Step 1 complete.
The next step was to push my Pinto Stang half way down the block before starting the motor. With this complete, I was now a free man.
The hard part was done. I was on my way to teenage make-out nirvana.
As I arrived I knocked on the door to be greeted by my Lady of the Night. She lead me to her bedroom. I still remember that Melissa Etheridge’s “Come To My Window” was playing as I crossed the threshold to her room. Now I had been alone in her house many times before, but we always hung out in the living room, so we could see if her mom ever came home early. This was different. I had never been in a girls bedroom before. And I was scared.
Perhaps I hadn’t thought this all the way through. I knew I wasn’t ready for sex yet. Hell, the thought of sex scared the shit out of me. What if Natasha thought this was going to be The Night. I definitely wasn’t properly prepared for this situation. Did I need protection? What the fuck WAS protection? I heard my buddy’s dad once talk about Foam. But I didn’t see how shaving was going to help the situation at all.
My nerves aside, we started making out on her bed. Uh-Oh. This was getting serious…
Just then the phone rings.
That’s odd. It’s 12:30am. Who calls at 12:30am? This can’t be good… Had my parents heard me start the car? Did that fucking squeaky crank window wake them up? Fuck! This wasn’t good.
Natasha picked up the phone. I could only hear her side of the conversation. She said “Hello?” She paused. “mmmm… yeah…”
With that, she handed the phone to me.
“It’s your Dad.”
FUCK! How the hell did he get this number? I’m so screwed.
I slowly put the phone up to my ear expecting to hear the profanity laden assault I surely deserved. “Hello?”
“Jared, this is Natasha’s Uncle can you please put her back on the phone?” The male voice on the other end commanded.
What the fuck had just happened?
What happened was that we just got punked! Her uncle, knowing that she was home alone, decided to call and test her by impersonating my dad. And we had fallen for it. The moment she said Yes, the jig was up.
I drove home, coasted up to my curb in neutral, slipped my hand inside the window, cranked it open, slithered inside and went to bed. And if I remember correctly that night signaled the subsequent end of my relationship with Natasha. If I also recall correctly, my parents never found out.
And to be honest with you all, I should probably consider myself somewhat lucky. I don’t know what might have happened that night, probably nothing. But I know I wasn’t ready either way.
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Dohhhhh, as Homer Simpson would say, my friend you were lucky in a couple of ways. And with that being said, all good things come to an end at some point…
Cheers Brada,
Dude that was hilarious. It brought a couple stories immediately to mind of my own teenage debauchery. Great tale.
hahaa…so good.
haha … I have three girls. I am going to have my brother pull this one on my girls.
I don’t remember “Natasha” ever telling me this story. She must have been too embarrassed!