My most embarrassing moment had to have occurred the summer before my 17th birthday. At that age, I actually thought I was a stud, although that was far from the truth. I did have a few pimp-arific tools at my disposal, however. First and foremost was my car, a 1965 Mustang, cherry red in color. Oh sure, it might have broken down every few days...but it looked good. I would use this performance machine to cruise the local college campus (people still cruised back then) and try to pick up girls. There were two reasons I targeted the college even though I was in high school : First and foremost because the girls there didn't know me, and therefore would not have heard how uncool I was; the other reason was because in my day, you had a better chance of getting freaky with the college girls. My other weapon was my room. Oh sure, I still lived with my parents, but my room was a world unto itself, not unlike a small scale version of the Playboy mansion. I had everything a ladies man needed to be successful in the late 1980's. My babe lair was equipped with a bed with blue satin sheets, a bad-ass sound system with a CD Player (almost no one had CD players yet) , a ton of neon items to include a neon telephone which gave off a subtle blue glow that both complimented and reflected the vibrant texture of the sheets. Add to this the complete love making music library containing music by Keith Sweat, Johnny Gill, Al Greene, and of course Barry White. Top all this off with my Hugh Hefner (my personal hero) silk robe and matching boxers and you had a package that was irresistible to the mortal woman...or so I thought at the time.My low success rate should have told me something was amiss. However, even the sun shines on a dog's ass at least once a day, and I actually managed to run into two ladies that wanted to come to "The Big Rob Country", as I called it. Now don't get me wrong, these two were far from perfect, but looks didn't matter, only the opportunity to fulfill every man's fantasy of having two women at the same time. When confronted with this situation, a mathematical formula must be applied. This formula is known as " Murray's Sexual Equation", which states: 2 ugly chicks together = 1 attractive chick. This equation can also be applied to group sex, as evidenced by the fact that I have never had sex with a perfect "10", but I have done five "2's" in the same night. You get the point. Anyway, I had arranged for these ladies (for want of a better term) to begin their safari in The Big Rob Country on a day when I was sure that my parents would be at work. I eagerly watched and waiting as my prey made their way into my lair, and were obviously impressed with my neon lighting and R & B collection. After a few drinks, consisting of some Mad Dog 20/20 that a hobo had bought for me in exchange for a bottle of Thunderbird, we began to get down to business. I had just masterfully gotten their clothes off, except those damn bras that they had to remove, and started to work my magic. To my surprise, over the smooth voice of Keith Sweat, I heard a car in the driveway. I looked out the window to see my Mom's car, but where was she? At that moment, while simultaneously opening my unlocked bedroom door, she asked who was visiting us. The view that awaited my mother scarred her for life...as I said, they weren't beautiful girls, but there were two of them. One of them was fat, the other skinny, so that when they stood beside one another they looked like the Number 10. One of them had bad skin, and neither was very smart. The only thing worse than getting caught with two chicks by your mom, is getting caught with two ugly chicks, by your mom. She quickly shut the door and screamed, " You had better get those two nasty bitches out of my house before I can get the gun!" With that, both girls grabbed their clothes and jumped from my window. In a flash of smoke and burning rubber, they were gone from my life. I quickly dressed, and attempted to escape myself. Choosing the silent, empty hallway as opposed to the window, a mistake I soon regretted. I had almost made it to the door, when I heard a low voice, with a tone not unlike that of Dirty Harry say, "Where the hell do you think you're going?" My mother then commenced to show me that I was not too old for an ass-kicking and beat the shit out of me, the whole time telling me that she hoped my dick rotted off. I was then thrown out of the house for two weeks. To this day, I feel embarrassed and ashamed when thinking of this. So much for my embarrassing moment.
My most unusual moment occurred years later, after my first divorce. After the divorce I had been saddled with $ 14,000 in credit card debt on cards I didn't know existed. I was a hobbyist magician, but good enough that I knew I could make some money on the side doing parties. I interviewed, and was accepted by a local talent company that provided various types of entertainment. I could do a whole article on this place alone, but to save time I will skip the bizarre details. The company was full up on magician positions and instead talked me into doing clown work, with the twist that I become a "Magical Clown" . That was the birth of Patches the Magical Clown, and one of the lowest, most humiliating periods of my working life. Each weekend I would go out and do 2-4 kids parties a day. This sucked, but during this time I met a female clown named Bubbles, whose specialty...or Clown Super Power, if you will...was making balloon animals. We hit it off and began to flirt. One day, we decided to go out for a drink after our booking was over. Since neither of us had a change of clothes, we went as clowns. We got more than a few weird looks at the bar. We drank for a long time, and one thing led to another, and we ended up back at her place. Even though I was caught up in the moment, I was struck by how odd this experience was shaping up to be. When she went down on me, her big, red nose honked each time it hit my stomach. That wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as when she tried making balloon animals with my junk. As things progressed, the first thing I noticed was that she tasted "funny" . I then commenced to fuck her "silly". Sorry for those jokes, I couldn't resist. So anyway, I'm banging this girl in full clown gear, with her big shoes in the air and I can tell when she's about to come because the flower on her lapel starts squirting water, and her bow tie is spinning. The great thing about giving a facial to a white face clown is that it just looks like the "tears of a clown" when you are done. Afterward, as we were lying in bed, I looked over at a sight that can best be described as a child's broken dream. She sat there, smoking a cigarette with smeared make-up and a rainbow afro that was askew, with her little derby hat slightly crushed. At that moment I felt both ashamed and slightly creeped out, yet somehow strangely turned on. I then did her again...just to make sure I didn't like it. Words of wisdom: Don't fuck clowns...like midgets, it seems like a good idea until you do it. In reality, its just creepy.
I hope that in sharing these two stories with you, you will post your own in the comments section. With my stories, I have set the bar pretty low and can't imagine how any of you could possibly have done anything worse. See you next post...
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