FIRSTS

I went to church today. Well, on Sunday. Yes, all you skeptics, B.E.T. & ‘em, I do go to church. I’ll admit though that I don’t get to go to church half as often as I’d want to. I’ve been working on trying to change that though.

It was all nice & warm inside the church and the sermon was long. That and the fact that I’ve been up and about all weekend long, not to mention the unusually strenuous workout I endured, [don’t read too much into that] made me more than a little sleepy while the sermon was going on. Fortunately I remembered just in time what someone once told me, something to the effect of:

Always pay attention to something you might not be particularly interested in; it often turns out to be most important.

So I forced myself to listen, and was I glad I did, coz it turned out to be a really good sermon. Pastor what’s-his-name was talking about going back to the first love. As in when you first discover God you’re so excited about it but then lose the fire, as he put it. Good sermon.

That got me thinking about my firsts though, the first time I ever did whatever. Let’s take a stroll down d-money’s memory lane. I’ll try and keep it in chronological order.

First time I figured out my name was >d®:
Of course I don’t remember the exact moment, but it has to be when I was a toddler and my siblings called out my name 24-7. I’m slow sometimes but the repetition was such that I had to get it.

First time I got my ass beat:
Oh, I remember this one! My first real encounter with the cane was when I snuck over to my then best friend’s house when I’d specifically been told not to go there. It still smarts.

First time I got my ass kicked: [not to be confused with the one above]
Primary school. Some playa-haters jumped me while I was kicking the all-newspaper-and-juala soccer ball around the playground. I was smaller & there were three of them, punks. Needless to say they damn near beat me to a pulp. All good. Get at me now fellas.

First time I noticed the physical differences between boys & girls:
Of course the fact that we wore shorts & they wore skirts gave me a clue. There was, however, one neighborhood girl that was one of us; a diehard tomboy. [Maybe that explains my special weakness for such chics] During one of our pissing games, you know, the one where we tried to see who could piss the furthest, the girl joined in. As if the fact that she had to lean back to piss forward wasn’t evidence enough, the other boys and I were instantly intrigued by the girl's artillery – or lack thereof.

First time I noticed the physical differences between boys & girls, pt. 2:
Imagine my horror when the girls in my class suddenly shot up and loomed over us. We’d always taken pleasure in terrorizing them but they were suddenly formidable – and merciless. I’ll be man enough to admit that a girl has whopped my ass. The WWF influence didn’t help much either coz yo, she picked me up and body-slammed me onto the Maragua dust. Then there were these funny-looking lumps growing on their chests that I was tempted to touch, like Rupee.

First time I had a wet dream
I remember it like it was just yesterday. I’d started having weird dreams, dreams about suddenly-gigantic girls with lumps on their chests. One night the dream was unusually intense and I think it ended just when I was about to unveil ‘the mystery of the lumps’ when a sudden, warm wetness enveloped my groin. I awoke thinking: oh sh*t, I know I didn’t just piss in bed after 10 piss-free years! But then, as I was making a beeline for the bathroom, I noticed that the front of my PJs looked like a tepee. Upon further inspection I noticed, by the consistency of the fluid that had drenched my drawers, that this was anything but piss. I’ll leave it at that.

First time I made the girls=hard connection:
My Ma one day had an unusual number of laborers at the farm, in addition to yours truly, of course. The usual sufs were too small for this one day so Mama d® told me to go to a neighbor’s house and borrow their biggest suf, which was considerably larger than our biggest. I go over there, walk around but there’s no one in sight. I yell out for anyone and finally the neighbor’s daughter comes thru. I said wsup and explained that I needed to borrow the suf. She was in the process of handing it over when she suddenly had that wicked glint in her eye [which I later came to recognize as horniness] and she grabbed my .. er… arm and asked me to come inside the house to see what she had for me. I was initially reluctant but I went in anyway and before I knew it, she had yours truly pinned against the wall and was doing things. Fortunately [or is it unfortunately?] there was the familiar sound of tires on gravel signaling her parents’ return and needless to say I ran all the way home, suf and all. As I was running for home I noticed the tepee again in my pants and that’s when I had the epiphany.

First time I knew I liked girls:
Shortly after my above epiphany I was at church one day trying to endure the usual routine. [Hey, I was only interested in fun back then & church wasn’t exactly fun] I used to sing at church and while going through the motions I noticed some girl in the crowd about my age. All of a sudden everyone & everything else ceased to exist, like I’d suddenly gotten tunnel vision, apart from this girl. I was enraptured by everything about her. It didn’t help much that it was Communion time so she walked up front and I’ll tell you what, I could hear music playing as she walked to and from the pulpit. And I don’t mean church music. There was music when she walked to the pulpit, music when she knelt on the padded section to receive the Body & Blood, music when she downed them, music as she got up, music as she walked back to her seat and music as she sat down. I knew then, and I know now. *Sigh!* I love women.

First nookie:
Sloppy, very sloppy. All 10 or so minutes of it. Hey, it’s not like I was timing it. Explosive, Mind-boggling. Inexplicably good. Copious fluid.

First kiss:
Forget all the hype about how special a first kiss is, for real. This one was all wet and sloppy. And I loved every blissful moment of it. I was ‘studying’ in this one classroom with some chic, just she and I. One moment we were discussing Algebra and the next we were swapping spit. I’ll describe it as such coz that’s what it was. Let’s just say I had Orbit gum in my mouth prior to the kiss and that it was missing when we were done. Neither of us knew what happened to it. I lost my gum again though, later on. And not just once.

First realization that I have an OK brain, albeit a little… er…. whacky:
In my final year of high school cats would wake up in the wee hours of the morning to go study. I succumbed to the pressure and did that one time, and one time only. From then on they would try & wake me up but I’d be like hell no, y’all go do your thing. My then best friend tried to make me do it but I was like hell to the no; quality, not quantity. Even Mama d® was like dude, I don’t think you’ll pass the exam. O they of little faith. I did pass, and if it wasn’t for that damned Swa I would’ve done a lot better, but I did OK still.

First time in the U.S. of A.:
Think about this one for a minute: I’d just come from shags straight to the United States. Needless to say I was more than a little out of place and I proved that by buying a can of Cherry Coke from some Jewish-looking dude for $5.00 at the airport. Later on I would get startled when the double doors opened up by themselves at Kmart. Oh, and did I mention my first brush with the law? And how about the first time I was told about daylight savings time? Filing taxes? Social Security #s? Yo, it’s amazing most of this stuff is 2nd nature to me now. Adaptation is definitely key.

First time in the slammer:
Here. Then here.

First time blogging:
I have to give credit where it’s due and say that the very first KBW blog I ever visited was Udi’s. He & I go back like 8-tracks but I didn’t know about the blog till I stumbled across it while surfing. Thanks to that one experience performancefirst was conceived. Wsup Udi.

First time I felt like an adult:
So, I succumbed to the pressure of going to this one bash. It was good, great actually. Lots to eat and drink, fly people, good music; the works. I was vibing this one chic, a friend of a friend, all night long and by night’s end we were both hammered, and tired, and horny, coz we’d been dancing and flirting and talking exclusively the whole time. One thing led to another and we went back home to the crib and it was about to be on & poppin’. I suddenly started rationalizing the whole thing and was like:
What the hell am I doing? You know you don’t like this girl like that. Is this really worth it? Can you handle the drama that will inevitably come after this incident?
So I killed it. I literally pulled the pants back up and was like: I’m sorry but I gotta go. Trust me fellas, those words sounded as foreign to me then as they do now coz that had never happened before. Then I walked out.

I’ve already said too much. Ciao, y’all.