KELLY CANER
Lampoonist
It was Halloween weekend, and I was looking for any man to open my portal to Halloweentown. The only sexual experience I’d ever had was with Brian in the 9th grade, who brought out a tub of vaseline and used it to grease up his pink puffy lips and then proceeded to kiss me everywhere but my mouth. What I mean by that is he literally made out with my chin for a good ten minutes. And the next day, he told our English teacher about it and the teacher gave me a high five. So, that was all I had under my sexual belt. But this Halloween I vowed to make a difference.
It’s college and I couldn’t afford those polyester costumes that cost almost as much as a sweatshirt from the bookstore. I had to improvise, I took a pink sheet and my cowboy hat and went as an Alaskan Bullworm (like from Spongebob). There I was, an Alaskan bullworm, out on the town looking for someone to fiddle my violin strings like Beethoven at a concert.
I slithered my worm self to a party where I met Peter, who was in a bacon costume. I tried to come across as cool and sexy as possible, but — shockingly — the Alaskan bullworm costume prohibited that. I was unable to move my arms in the costume and I ended up collapsing onto the slice of bacon I so badly desired. It was more embarrassing than when you save a picture of your crush on Facebook so show your friends and then you accidentally send the picture of the crush to the crush. I thought he wouldn’t want to diddle my skittles anymore, but the bacon slice was so kind that he just laughed it off. I was in love.
I brought the bacon slice back to my dorm, a.k.a. the love oven. I had cleaned up the room earlier that evening, knowing there was a possibility of having a man put his popsicle in my freezer. When we got back to the room, things were getting spicier than El Diablo’s red chili. He started to unwrap me from my worm costume, like a butterfly being released from its cocoon. And once this butterfly was released I said “Jesus take the wheel!” and let him ride on the Cane-train.
As a first timer, I was nervous and couldn’t help but giggle like when you’re in the dorm bathroom and you hear the person in the stall next to you fart. It was an awkward, yet rewarding, experience. I won’t go into explicit detail; let’s just say he knew his way around a nipple. But I can say this with confidence: after this Halloween, I won’t be lighting the black flame candle from Hocus Pocus…
*This is a completely fictional story, I did not lose my virginity to a bacon strip, but I did get chin-licked, and am still very traumatized about it.