Our Patron Saint- Our Lady of Getting Lucky
It is the Spring of 1988 and I am a 19-year-old freshman in college enjoying all of the freedom and benefits that university life has to offer. My initial plan to spend the year in Israel has been scrapped and I am pleasantly surprised by how much fun I am having.
There is a girl in my political science class that intrigues me. I have spent more than a few minutes trying to stare at her without getting caught. She has long black hair and dark eyes. It is quite warm in spring so I am treated to lots of sundresses and or shorts. Some days I make a point to sit just behind her and to the side. From there I am able to drink deeply in the dreams I have of her. She has a lot of attention from men so I donâ€™t want to be like everyone else- I need to figure an angle that will make her notice me.
Little do I know that tripping over my own two feet will be enough to catch her eye.
Class has just ended and we’re heading out of class to wherever we need to be. She is standing in front of me and my eyes are drawn downwards. I am walking but not watching where I am going and somehow I end up sprawled in the hallway. Don’t know if I grunted, screamed or if she heard the soft thud my head made when it smacked the ground. What I do know is that I find her standing over me. She wants to know if I am ok. I mumble something at her and stand up. We talk for a moment. I attempt to be cool and fail miserably at it.
But the fall has broken the ice and we start to have conversations. I am ecstatic about it and work hard to say just enough not to sound like a fool. A few weeks pass and I gather the courage to ask her out. She takes me with her to a party at her friend’s apartment and we grab a few drinks. I am more than pleased that she laughs at my jokes. She flips her hair and touches my arm throughout the night and I begin to think that maybe lady luck is with me.if I did it would be great for our Lady of Getting Lucky tonight to put a good word in for me.Click To Tweet
A short time later we’re at her apartment. I try to figure out how to kiss her without looking foolish. I think to myself that Jewish kids don’t have patron saints, but if I did it would be great for our Lady of Getting Lucky tonight to put a good word in for me. My silent prayer is answered and she invites me in.
Moments later her arms are wrapped around me and I am trying to hide my response. Can’t give away all my secrets so quickly. A few soft kisses lead to her neck and I feel her melt. She grabs my face in her hands and I prepare to enter heaven when I receive a sudden and rude shock.
Her tongue is everywhere and not in a good way. Apparently, my dream date has graduated from the St. Bernard School of Open Mouth Kissing. I stand there in shock trying to figure out if she thinks that my face is made of chocolate or peanut butter. Remember, I am 19 and the boys have told me that we want a woman who is a master with her tongue, but this isn’t what they were talking about, now is it.
(Originally Posted Here)