The Princess & The Pea-nis

We're all familiar with the old fairy-tale story of the Princess and the Pea. In order to discover if the girl was truly a princess, a pea was hidden in her bed to see if she would feel it. Well, she did, and she bitched and moaned about how the teeny pea hurt her poor back. Well I'd like to tell that little princess: at least it wasn't a big, hard penis poking into her backside.


A few weeks ago I met a cute boy at the bar. Yes, I know, the bar isn't where I am going to meet Mr. Right, but it was a good place to meet Mr. Right Now. So Tyson and I got to chatting and he invited me home. When we got back to his apartment I was not only impressed by how immaculately clean his place was, but by his lovely king-sized, duvet-covered bed. I instantly fell in love with Tyson's bed and was even more delighted by his black-out blinds. The fact that there was no construction happening outside his window at 7am, like there was on my street for the previous week, was an added bonus. So even though the fooling around was only mediocre, I decided he had earned himself another date.

Unfortunately, the second date make-out was no better. The intended movie we rented was left unseen as Tyson sloppily kissed me and pried at my jeans, eager to get me into his bed. I was equally eager to get into his bed, but for a very different reason. I had not had a decent night's sleep with the damn construction on my street. While I thought I could dismiss Ty's attempts to seduce me, he was ever persistent and was literally spooning me with his hard penis jamming into my back all night. I don't know if this guy popped a Viagra before I arrived, but I swear to God it did not go flaccid for 8 hours straight.

The next morning, instead of feeling restful and happy to awake to quiet darkness, I awoke to a pain in my backside... literally. So maybe I was a princess for trying to use a guy for his bed, but I endured a hell of a lot more than a teeny pea as my punishment.

The Bold & The Beautiful

For my sixteenth birthday my parents sent me to stay with a French family in Marseilles for two weeks. On the flight over there was a delay in Paris and I ended up chatting with a lady from California sitting beside me. As we were talking I noticed a cute teenage boy who kept staring at me. Even when I caught him in the act, he held my gaze. So I told the lady beside me that I was going to go over to say hi. She smiled at me and said "My, aren't we the bold and the beautiful..."

I strolled across the Paris airport, said hello in some broken French and sat down. His name was Yoanne and we ended up switching seats to sit together on the plane, and he kissed me and whispered "Je t'aime" in my ear the whole flight to Marseilles. We wrote love letters back and forth for a while until, eventually, things fizzled out.

Now it is ten years later and I've sometimes wondered where that bold and beautiful young girl went. A few long term relationships and I feel like I have somehow lost that ability to approach strangers with confidence. Maybe I've gotten jaded or maybe just more insecure. But I have been feeling like I need to return to my previously bold ways.

The other day I was working a marketing gig and getting random people to answer questions for a TV show. I had the perfect opportunity to start conversations with complete strangers. So when an extremely cute guy came towards me I jumped on the chance to talk to him. I got him to sign his waiver and sent him to the cameras. I told the on set make-up artist that I wished there was a way for me to go on a date with him. She told me to just go for it. So in the spirit of turning 26 and bringing my bold back, I made my move.

When he was done his short interview I awkwardly approached him and asked if he was single. He said yes. So I told him I thought he was very handsome and seemed really sweet and how I don't come across that many handsome, sweet guys. I asked if he would want to go on a date sometime, and once again he said yes. We exchanged numbers and he left me standing there bewildered but proud for doing what so many of us 20-somethings always think about doing, but we talk ourselves out of.

Maybe he and I will never go on a date. Maybe we will but it will fizzle out. But I know that I am putting myself out there. I am once again the bold and beautiful girl I was before. It only took me ten years to get it back, but damn does it feel good.