HUMOR IN MY LIFE - - - Part 2

Back in the days of childhood during my summers at my camp, I whiled away the hours with one of my first tender, young girlfriends. Her name was Marie and she had a deep dark brown complexion in stark contrast to my lily-white, freckled one. I only became more freckled following the lobster red sunburns I received after the two of us frolicked in the refreshing waters of our local Finger Lake in Upstate New York. Those were the days!

Even though she was one and a half years older than I, she must have thought I was an eligible prospect. One day she asked her mother if she would be marrying me some day. Her mother replied, “Honey, there are plenty of fish in the sea!” It was lucky for her that she didn't meet the fate of my first wife and only wife; namely that of marrying a very confused gay man.

Our camps were rather rustic. There was no electricity or indoor plumbing. It was reminiscent of the previous century when one would need to let go in an outdoor privy. “Okay!” would say Sister Mary Olga Fortitude. “Let's call it like it is! You're talking about a rank and rustic outhouse! Just watch out for the splinters or they might bite you in the ass!”

I giggled with delight when a mutual friend taught Marie and I an old song. It was entitled “Swinging from the Outhouse Door.” I immediately decided that would be a fun thing to do. The door of my outhouse cooperated marvelously. I could swing to and fro with freedom, though it wasn't as much fun as swinging from a hanging vine on the hill above the smelly outhouse.

I eventually came to act out a similar scenario in an updated bathroom at a later point in my life. That would just happen to take place on the night before my wedding. The last thing that I remembered at the scene of my wedding's eve party was swinging from the shower rod in the hotel bathroom. The rod broke and I fell into a tub filled with ice water and beer!

Ah...those fun and crazy times back in the days of my drinking escapades! I could and will tell you stories about the drunkalogues of my life. I'll keep it on the light side by telling you the humorous stories if you will bear in mind that I'm not trying to glorify the darker side of my budding alcoholism.

The memory of that bathtub scene only came back to me from others once I'd returned from my honeymoon. During what had been a black out, I came out as the gay man I was to several stunned members of my wedding party. Then I ran down to the hotel lobby in a frenzy of crazed drunkenness only to be dragged on my back to my hotel room.

I awoke the following morning with a tremendous hangover. Fortunately I made it to the church on time even though my best man got stuck in a traffic jam on the Connecticut turnpike. That didn't deter him from his matrimonial duties. He hopped onto the shoulder of the road and sped by the angry and amazed motorists who complied with the rules of the road. He delivered this groom to the church on time.

That didn't prove to have been necessary. True to form, my bride was as late as always...too bad for her that she didn't get cold feet. When the honeymoon was over, she discovered it wasn't so funny being married to a gay man! Sad, funny, and true!

Author Davis Aujourd'hui
"The Misadventures of Sister Mary Olga Fortitude" (First book of a series of books to come!!)

Humor in my Life --Part 7

After years of being anxious about remaining a virgin, I finally fell in love with a woman who wanted to be intimate with me when I was twenty. It remained an anxious experience for me. After all, I'd never had a single sexual fantasy about a woman. I was scared to think that I might be a homosexual; that was a fate I did not want for myself! What complicated things was that I'd lied to my girlfriend. I'd told her I was sexually experienced. Now I could only hope that I could become stimulated and perform. Talk about pressure!

I made that long trip home from college to celebrate Valentine's Day with my new valentine. Since neither of us had a place of our own, I came up with the bright idea of making love for the first time out at the family camp in Upstate New York. Mind you, it was February, the coldest month of the year and there was no heating at the camp!

After making a self-conscious stop to purchase my first condoms, I picked up my valentine and we headed for camp. We were rife with expectation and I was beside myself with my own fears. The two of us trudged down through the cow pasture above the lake, knee deep in snow, while a bitterly cold wind buffeted us until we reached the relative shelter of the woods. Then we had to make the steep, slippery descent that last quarter mile down to the camp.

I took my valentine to the cottage which I'd thought would be a romantic setting, but the temperature within it was somewhere just above zero degrees. Even a fire in the fireplace barely registered any warmth to the part of the cottage where I intended our tryst would take place. We were, very simply, freezing!

Well, what could we do? We got under the covers, fully clothed, before venturing further. Mind you, I was simultaneously contemplating my ability to become aroused with a woman, as well as how to put on a never-before-used condom! At the same time, I was contemplating my ability to hit the target once I was properly equipped. Oh, and then, there was my performance anxiety. Oh God, could a first time be any worse than this? Maybe honesty was the best policy!

Anyhow, one thing led to another after we slipped off our clothes beneath those icy covers. Less than a minute later, it was over. Phew! I was no longer a virgin and I thought I'd done pretty well, all things considered. The best part was that I was in love and she loved me!

Well, I'd climbed a figurative mountain, but now it was time to climb up that steep, slippery hillside to the promise of warmth from my Ford Pinto. It was a tough climb, especially for my valentine who wasn't accustomed to the great outdoors. Finally we made it! Both of us had to laugh about the clumsy lovemaking, though obviously for somewhat different reasons!