Don’t forget to check out Nikki’s previous columns about giving a guy her digits and getting hit on by a black guy.
I can’t go into details of how it went down. You understand how sex works, right? Good. It was that, plus me falling off the bed. Got it?
I remembered the incident the following afternoon. I immediately grabbed my phone and proceeded to send a mass text to a handful of friends. I didn’t have many details of the fall itself. I kind of blocked it out. It was really just an afterthought. Maybe because it happened during sex. Sex is already embarrassing enough. It’s just one embarrassing thing on top of another.
It’s like slipping down a flight of stairs in front of a bunch of people and farting while in mid-fall. Which is worse? Does it even matter when they’re double-stacked like that?
I know that I fell hard. I can see the gash where I slammed my back into the bedside table drawer. But that’s all I know.
I imagine that I tried to alleviate the awkwardness by acting like it was something I meant to do. Like I’m really into slapstick sex or something.
I used to pull this move all the time during my adolescence. I’d lean too far back in my chair during class, lose my balance, and topple over. Then I’d act like I had done it on purpose and that it was
somehow fun. Like I thought that the perfect time to show off a “sick new trick” involving a plastic chair and slippery linoleum was during a silent study hall while my lifelong crush, Kent Eberle, sat behind me.
“Heh! Heh! Oh God! That was awesome! Did you see that? I want to do that again! Seriously, you guys, you should try it!”
“Should we fart in mid-air like you did, too?”
“Uh… That wasn’t me.”
“Yes it was.”
“Oh.”
So, there you have it. I fell off the bed during sex. It happened. And I’m a better woman/blogger because of it.
I just hope the guy who witnessed my fall doesn’t tell anyone. Because I would be sooooooo embarrassed if this got out.
Nikki Glaser is a stand-up comedian living in Los Angeles. Go to www.myspace.com/nikkiglaser for info.
Comments