>>> The Strumpet's Trumpet
By guest writer Sarah Marsala (Allison's friend)
March 6, 2008

The night began like most others. Allison and I had come to San Francisco to visit our friend Ashley. Somehow we got suckered into attending a show put on by Ashley’s boyfriend’s band—Urine Love—but we were still happy at the prospect of spending some time with our Ashley. We were also very thrilled to get a hotel room miles away from Allison’s
mother.

After several hours of drunkenly gyrating to Urine Love’s angst-ridden tunes and thoroughly embarrassing Ashley’s boyfriend, we hit the road looking for adventure. Sadly, it was already past 2AM and nothing was open…except for the taqueria. So, being the fatties that we are, we got right in line for a yummy burrito. While waiting to stuff our faces, I spotted a tall, adorable boy gazing lovingly at Miss Parks. After a few moments he stood in front of her, dropped to one knee, and presented her with a ring fashioned out of the tinfoil from his burrito. Then, in his darling little Irish accent, he proposed. “Will you make out with me?” I was so jealous.

Then I realized that our little friend was not alone. In fact, he was accompanied by the worst looking man ever. I am telling you this man was God awful. He had brown hair slopped with grease and red eyes, and he looked like his breath was the worst—which I would later find out, it was. He gazed at me with the largest grin on his face and said, “Wull, ‘ello lass,” slobbering with every word like an ever lovin’ Saint Bernard. Being the honorable wing-woman I am, it would be my duty to keep the company of this troll, while Allison spent time flirting with her adorable Irishman.

“I played dead like a possum, but he sensed my fear and it only made him hornier.”

As we finished our burritos—during which time I made every attempt to keep an adequate distance between me and the beast—Allison invited the two to our hotel for a late night swim. When we returned to our hotel, the goblin immediately uttered, “Let me get at cha,” and awkwardly lunged at me. We wrestled on the bed for the amusement of the other two. Many would believe this to be a form of flattery and flirting. I, however, am not stupid. My plan was to “accidentally” kill him with a karate chop to the spine or wear him out so I could sleep on the floor in peace.

Unfortunately, this sloth was not one to go down without a fight. And he smelt like a man fighting too—fighting a hundred year war with no deodorant. After our match, we put on swimming gear. I would have put on a suit of armor if it was available. However, I was forced to wear only shorts and a t-shirt, not nearly enough to repel the leprechaun.

While searching for the pool, I made every attempt to ditch the ogre, but he stuck beside me like the stink stuck to him. Meanwhile, Allison was off somewhere, spending ample time with her adorable, blonde-haired, baby-faced BF. When I finally found the pool, I made a bee line for the side farthest away from Dirty Ireland. I would have clung to the ceiling like Spiderman if I had the ability—anywhere to escape that swine.

I swam and swam and swam the fuck away from him. Every time Allison’s BF picked her up and spun her around to kiss her, I would obnoxiously sigh in an attempt to embarrass her. The goblin, however, took my kidding to be envy and ran after me with open arms, hollering “Come ‘ere ye!!” Now, we all know how hard it is to run in water, but my friend, I fucking ran. I ran around the pool, out of the pool.

I am a nice friend but come on, I was sobering up, and this was just wrong. Then someone got the terrible idea to play chicken—a game requiring me to put my vagina closer to this person than you could pay me for.

I had reached my limit. I was tired, and the sun was coming up. This guy was breaking my will to live. My legs were burning from running away. At that point, we got out of the pool. Allison started drying off and putting on clothes, and I just stood there with a towel on, not risking that freak of nature seeing my nudeness.

Then all of the sudden he showed us everything. He just dropped trough, and stood there naked, flippity floppin’ his dirty Irish junk around saying, “Yeeee, ya like it!” For the first time in the night I was not the only one running from him—Allison and her BF were also trying to get away.

Just when I thought our double date of doom had finally come to an end, Allison extended the invitation for the two Irishman to come back with us, provided that we would ONLY snuggle and watch TV. Of course this rule was dismissed as quickly as we opened the door, as both boys got stark naked and ran to our respective beds. I stared at Allison, then the beds, then the floor, then the sky, thinking God… what did I do to deserve this? Then I put on a full sweatsuit, complete with drawstring hood, laid on the edge of the bed in the fetal position, and tried to go to sleep.

Had I learned nothing?

I laid in bed and he still managed to smell of BO!! Even after nearly four hours of swimming. I stared at the ceiling and played dead like a possum. It was no use. He sensed my fear and it only made him hornier.

All of a sudden I felt two finders—the pointer and the middle—rubbing my mid-thigh in a circular motion. Now this is odd, I thought. Maybe he’s going to give me a massage? That wouldn’t be so bad. But then he didn’t move his fingers from the position he had found on my leg. It was at that point I realized this bad-breathed, red-eyed, BO-smelling Irishman had somehow mistaken my leg for my vagina. As the rubbing on my leg picked up speed, I laid there staring at the ceiling in utter disbelief. I looked over for Allison to share in my misery, only to see her and her bare-assed boyfriend sawing logs. I spent the remainder of my time with that freak fighting for my dignity, dodging his kisses and touches.

I woke up alone, clad in my sweatsuit, with the sheets pulled off of that nightmare’s side. I began to wonder, was it all a dream? Then I rolled over onto the bare part of the mattress where I was greeted with the commanding stench of that vile leprechaun’s BO, permeating the bed.

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