The Soldier or How I Joined the Poon Platoon

A few months after I’d broken up with the Ex, it was my friend Tits’ 21st birthday. We went to a bar in a nearby town at around 10 o’clock that night. It was a bunch of couples and me + the Soldier. The Soldier was a friend of mine. Not a close friend. In fact, up until two days prior to this night, we hadn’t had a full-length conversation. He was also a member of the rugby team, a newcomer that semester. I’d noticed him a few months earlier and thought him to be extremely "fuckable." But immediately after making this observation, I also noted that he was a complete and total manwhore and made a mental note to steer clear.

I had driven the Soldier and myself to the bar that night, and to show his gratitude, he bought me a beer and a mixed drink. Nothing like feeding alcohol to the designated driver, is there? He put his hat on my head and left to walk around the bar socializing. For a glimpse into his character, let me tell you that the hat read "Poon Platoon." Class act, all the way.

After getting Tits sufficiently hammered, we left to go find a hot dog stand to appease her drunken munchies. While sitting there, talking to the Soldier, I was becoming increasingly bored with his drunken ramblings. He also started looking really good to me, so I decided to lean in and make a move. Nothing like some hardcore making out in the middle of a hot dog stand. Like I said, class act, all the way.

Everyone finished their hot dogs and we got into our respective cars. The Soldier told me that he had guard duty (yes, he was in the National Guard and was actually a soldier) but no alarm clock, so he needed to stay at my place to wake up in time. I know, I know. That was the most ridiculous story ever. And I didn’t buy it. But, I did pounce on him once we got back into my car. When we finally broke apart, and I began driving home, I knew I had lost the battle.

For the record, don’t drink and drive, kids. This has been Carrie’s public service announcement.

I made it back to school and as we made our way to the building I told the Soldier "I’m not going to sleep with you tonight." He said that was fine and I added, "I’m not going to blow you either." He laughed and said that was fine too. We walked in silence until he spoke up and said, "I bet you’re breaking every single one of your rules right now." This wasn’t the first freakishly accurate observation he’d made about my character that night. It amazed me how this guy I had only really talked to a handful of times could read my character so well. I guess that had a large part to do with why I let him stay in my room that night. A note to all guys, if you can see through my bullshit, I’ll probably sleep with you.

I locked him out of my room so I could clean up all of my laundry I’d strewn all over the place when I was hurriedly getting ready for the bar. Had I known he’d be coming home with me, I might have done a little more preparation in the way of putting my clothes away. I changed into my pajamas, which I thought would serve as a prevention of sex by eliminated the undressing process. It didn’t. When I finally let him into my room, he began slowly undressing, all the while shooting me a smug smile. I responded by rolling my eyes and turning over in my bed. He pulled me up to kiss me and then picked me up and tossed me onto the bed. I’ll spare the details, but let’s just say, Best sex of my life. He left that morning, after a night of his nocturnal flatulence and blanket hogging, and I felt kind of dirty, but quickly got over it. I did what I had to for my country.