When I was a sophomore or junior in high school I had a job cleaning a medical clinic at night. The clinic closed at seven so I usually got there at about nine or so. When I was trained on the cleaning, they walked me through every single thing. Garbages, dusting, mopping, sinks, toilets, etc. It was a smaller clinic and they told me it was supposed to take approximately four hours to clean the entire thing, top to bottom. It was a pretty awesome job.
You know that soft music they play over the speakers in the dr's office? Usually it's FM 100.3... at least in northern Utah. (by the way... their slogan is "continuous soft hits". Um... did nobody in the chain of command at that radio station notice that the slogan sounds a lot like "continuous soft tits"? Cause I laugh whenever they say it... even when they're playing "Sounds of the Sabbath" on Sundays. I just can't help it.) Well, the first thing I used to do when I got to work was change the station to 99.5 and then crank it. I'd walk around for a couple hours jamming out to my own music in an otherwise vacant medical clinic.
The bad part about that job were the hours, of course. I would work until about one in the morning. Then I'd have to wake up at six in order to get ready for school. After school, I'd come home and take about a three hour nap. One of my first girlfriends was also during this period of my life. Emily Skinner. Emily was awesome. She was only slightly above average looking and her personality wasn't stellar, but to a dude who didn't have a whole lot of experience with women, Emily was perfect. She always wore slip on shoes, white tights and a skirt that went to about mid-thigh. Always. I don't remember her ever wearing anything else.
My mom hated her. Wanna know why? Cause every day after school, I'd go home and take my usual nap. I'd sleep solo for the first hour or so, but about three times a week, Emily would come over to my house, let herself inside, come down to my room and sleep next to me for the final two hours of my nap. It was awesome... for me. Not awesome for my mom. But my mom worked until five, so she had no idea that Emily was sleeping with me most of the time. Emily was one of the main reasons my mom felt it necessary to lecture me on aggressive women in the modern world.
I think Emily is the defining influence in my love for spooning. There's something about being so close to someone who likes you that is so much fun. Notice I didn't say "someone you like". I said "someone who likes you". Sure, it's great to like someone. But there's something so much sweeter about knowing someone likes me. Like if I'm out with some guys and we meet a group of girls, I'll usually rank them based on attractiveness, natch... but if Aaron whispered to me at some point, "Hey... that average looking one with the jutting ears and lopsided nostrils totally digs you." Even if she was the fourth most attractive of the six girls, I'd still think, "Sweet. I'm going for it." Now that I'm typing it out, I'm realizing it's probably because it's less work. If she is already leaning my direction, then I might as well take what I can get. Guaranteed makeout.
Anyway... spooning. I think I've gotten pretty good at it, thanks to Emily. Lots of practice over the years (minus my two year mission [with one exception]) has built my confidence significantly.
I found myself spooning with Marie on Saturday night. When I plan my dates, I purposely try to plan them out until about midnight. Then that gives me the option of ending the date, or turning on my irresistible talent of spontaneous horizontal make-out suggestions. She was in no hurry to go home and we ended up in my basement watching The Indian in the Cupboard. I know what you're thinking. "What? Seriously? The Indian in the Cupboard?" Well, I gave her a dozen choices and that's the one she chose. When I rolled my eyes at her choice, she said, "How much of it are we really going to be watching anyway?" True, Marie. True.
Our spooning position was perfect. I know it was perfect because I was so uncomfortable. That's how I know. I had to hold my head up with my left hand. When my wrist started to hurt, I would drop my head down so I could flex my left hand the other direction... and then I couldn't see the TV and her hair would go up my nose, which I'd then have to scratch. The positioning was perfect cause when I was propped up, my mouth was so close to her ear, I could whisper stuff. When a girl wants to roll around with a guy... and she's waiting for him to make a move... I think it's fun to drag it out as long as possible. Kind of like, make-out foreplay. When a guy's lips are brushing up against a girl's ear, pretty much anything he whispers is going to turn her on. I have a favorite and I totally did it to Marie. I would put my lips right against her ear and whisper, "Marie*, can you keep a secret?" (*name can be altered depending on who I'm talking to). Marie turned her head so our lips are about two inches apart and says, "Yes." Then I moved my right hand up to the left side of her face and very gently pushed her head closer to my mouth and then I whispered in her ear, "Um. I forgot what I was going to say. Sorry." The reason I know this works, is because when we're spooning I am very aware of her breathing. Marie reacted perfectly. She held her breath when I was whispering and then started taking shorter breaths when I pretended to start watching the movie again.
It worked beautifully. We ended up making out for most of the movie, including the end credits. The only reason we stopped is because the opening menu on the DVD has really irritating music that repeats over and over and over. Ugh. I hate that .
When I took her home, she insisted on having our doorstep scene in my truck... about two blocks away from her house. She claimed it had nothing to do with how late I was getting her home, but I'm pretty sure it was.
ps You know how when you play a whole bunch of Tetris right before you go to bed, as you're falling asleep, all you can think about is where to put those blasted Tetris pieces? Well, that was me... except with that Indian in the Cupboard music instead of Tetris pieces.