The rest of the day was magical. We connected in a way that I didn’t know was possible. I knew Piggy despised me. That was pretty obvious from our “date.” But when we got to her apartment the sparks started flying. Before we even had a chance to sit on the couch Piggy attacked. We made out for ten minutes and the next thing I knew we were in bed for the next three hours. Physically, everything was working. This was the best sex either of us had ever had. If only we didn’t have to talk to each other.
I’m chalking this up to physical attraction. There was nothing else it could be. Piggy did have an awesome body. Although I couldn’t quite tell how awesome it was at Front Porch with her all covered up in winter clothes. But, when I got her naked, her body was even better than it looked in clothes. I mean what red blooded male is going to turn down nice full tits and a tight ass? In addition, making out doesn’t require any talking, and that was a good thing. I mean, the conversation at Front Porch was fine, but the sex was definitely better. It was so good that I needed to make Piggy sex a regular thing. Plus, it got me into Piggy’s much roomier apartment and into a real bed, if only for a little while.
I started seeing Piggy about twice a week, strictly at night. We would never go to dinner, we would never grab a drink together, and we would never talk. The rules were pretty simple. Piggy would call when she had some time, and I would go over to her apartment, open the door, rip her clothes off and we would make love for about an hour or so. After we were finished, I would throw on my clothes and hit the road. This went on for a month. In short, I was a booty call.
One night that all changed. We had just finished having sex and I was taking my ten-minute breather. Piggy had allotted me ten minutes to hang out before I had to leave. Who was I to argue? Ten minutes in a bed, just lounging, was heaven when you regularly sleep on an air mattress. I was lying down in the bed catching my breath, when Piggy caught me by surprise, “Can you come with me to a Christmas party?”
Piggy was inviting me to a Christmas party? Surely this must be some kind of joke. Was this Piggy getting involved?
“When is the party?” I figured it was some sort of work party.
“On Christmas Eve,” Piggy did have a persuasive way of saying things. I was a bit shocked, but I figured, what the hell? I wasn’t going to be doing anything.
“I guess. What kind of Christmas party is it?” I was curious.
“Just a regular kind of Christmas party. It’s out of the city, so I’ll have to rent a car. We have to stay over as well, so pack a change of clothes.”
With the holidays just a couple of weeks away I was looking forward to being able to partake in some festivities. That’s what I was beginning to miss most about not having a job - the holiday office party. A free night out with the people you work with. The camaraderie, the drinking, the hope that someone will do something totally embarrassing. This party was going to be great. I’d get to meet other women, get trashed, make an ass out of myself and then have sex in the hotel room with Piggy. JewDater, why did I ever doubt you?
Piggy pulled up in front of Michelle’s building in her rented car. Bobby, the building doorman, rang me up, “Mr. David, your ride is here.”
Excellent. I gathered my bag and told Michelle to enjoy her free night.
“What do you think I’m going to do here?” she asked.
I was going to party my ass off. She’d probably watch television and pass out by 10. There’s nothing to do anyway. Everything is closed! If she was smart she would hit the Matzah Ball, the big Jewish party that always takes place on Christmas Eve, usually Downtown at some club. She’d probably meet an eligible, single Jewish guy there, but I doubt that is happening. Meeting someone in person? No way, that’s way too traditional for my sister. I’m sure she’ll revert to JewDater at some point. Anyway, I’m sure it will be blowing up tonight with other bored Jews. Who’s up for some exciting Jewish chat over instant messenger? Ugh.
We were on the road for an hour, or so, on our way to the suburbs. We were killing time chatting, a rare activity for us. Piggy was telling me about her clients. One dude was learning how to pronounce the ‘TH’ sound. Another was learning how to swallow. I never want to work in a hospital. What a fucking drag. I don’t think I have the patience to work with these people. How the fuck did she do this every day? She must be a caring person. I, apparently, was heartless. We finally pulled off the highway, and turned into a residential area. Four-bedroom colonials everywhere. We pulled into the driveway of a house. Piggy killed the engine.
“We’re here,” she unbuckled her seat-belt and threw open the door of the car, “Come on.”
“Where are we?” I asked.
Some work person’s house?
We were at the front door, bags in hand, when Piggy says, “This is my parent’s house. Oh, and one more thing, you’re my boyfriend.”
“What!?”
Ding, dong.
The door opened, and ‘Merry Christmases’ started flying. There were two people standing in front of me dressed in red cardigans. Turns out they were Piggy’s parents.
“Is this him?” Her mother was asking. She had a reindeer embroidered in her cardigan. And were those snowman earrings? Holy mother of God. Who were these people?
“Looks like a fine, young lad,” said dad, sticking out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, son. Come on in.”
“He is a adorable,” cooed her mother, then she put her hand to her mouth and whispered to Piggy, while pointing to her head, “but a little light on top.”
We got five steps in the house when Piggy’s 96 year-old aunt exclaimed, “Happy Birthday, Baby Jesus! I am just tickled you two are here to help us celebrate the birth of our Lord and savior. Praise his name!”
I stood there in utter confusion mumbling back to these people ‘Merry Christmas’ and ‘Praise Him,’ sometimes even throwing in a ‘Hallelujah’ - just to be safe. I got introduced to 30 Born-Again Christians, each very excited about the birth of the Lord. My head was spinning. I wasn’t sure if it was from the shock of the situation or from all the green and red playing tricks on my eyes.
Of course, they had a Christmas tree. It was in the corner of the 100 square-foot living room that somehow managed to fit all thirty of us. I’ve seen one of those on TV but never in real life. There was an actual star on top. I discovered that people really do that. And there were ornaments on the tree. Interesting. Where were the stockings? I scanned the room . . . and there they were, right where they should be, lined up on the fireplace mantle. This really looked like a Norman Rockwell painting. I do not belong in one of those paintings. I walked over to the tree to get a better view. Yes, different types of ornaments. There was a snowman, reindeer, a manger, stars, balls, etc.
“I bought that for my mom when I was seven,” Piggy said pointing to the ornament in the shape of a deer. “She loves deer.”
I guess that’s how it works. You buy ornaments for parents?
“This one is from my Nana,” she held up a baby Jesus ornament in Mary’s arms.
I was wrong. Your parents and grandparents can buy ornaments for their children, too.
Suddenly, Joshuah, Piggy’s insane uncle, accosted me. He shoved some creamy, vile drink in my hand. I took a sip. This must be eggnog. Piggy walked over to her Aunt.
“Is this eggnog?” I asked.
“Of course it is, spiked eggnog, with a touch of nutmeg,” Uncle Joshuah said to me, winking.
Nutmeg, of course. That is what tastes like shit. At least this vile concoction had alcohol in it.
“So you own a house there, Dave?”
“I live in the city.” I left out the part about my sister.
“Well, one thing you have to know about your house is the windows. One piece of advice for you, get storm windows. They’re not that bad to put in yourself, although you don’t look like much of a carpenter, like our savior, Jesus Christ, so just hire someone to do it for you there, kid. But go get yourself some quality-grade windows, you won’t be sorry, and I’ll tell you why-.”
“I don’t have a house, but thanks for the advice, I guess.”
Get me out of here.
“But when you do, son. Treat yourself. Don’t skimp on the windows.”
This man kept droning on about construction. Do you know how much experience I have with building things? None. I once heard a snippet of a home improvement television show, and I think that was ten years ago, only because my Dad had it on. Why he was watching it was beyond me. The man couldn’t fix himself a drink, let alone install storm windows.
Piggy re-appeared.
“Uncle Josh, are you talking about windows again? David doesn’t even own a house. He lives with his sister on an air mattress,” Piggy offered.
Jesus Christ, she didn’t say that, did she?
“What is he? Some kind of pervert?” Uncle Josh asked.
“Jesus Christ,” I blurted it out. I couldn’t hold it in.
“Son, you just took the Lord’s name in vain.” Gasps filled the room. “We don’t take the Lord’s name in vain in this house.”
“I’m sorry, I just got a little carried away,” I didn’t know what the fuck to say.
“What kind of Christian are you?” Uncle Josh was pissed.
“The Jewish kind,” I said.
Apparently, Piggy left out this detail.
“Jewish?” Uncle Josh went from pissed to completely confused.
“We’ll be right back,” Piggy frantically pulled me outside, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“What am I doing? Are you kidding me? First you lie to me about going to some party. Then you take me to your parent’s house for Christmas Eve, where apparently the entire family is now gathered. Plus, you failed to mention that you were a Born Again. Apparently, you didn’t think I needed to hear that Good News. And, if that is not enough, I have to pretend I’m your boyfriend, oh, but not just any boyfriend, your Christian boyfriend! So don’t talk ask me what I am doing!” I went crazy.
She started crying.
“I know. I am a terrible person. I am sorry for everything. It’s just that my parents want to make sure that I’m taken care of, and you are so nice and kind that I started telling them you were my boyfriend to get them off my back. But the more I lied about it, the more I started falling for you. I kept our relationship at arm’s length because I didn’t want to get close to you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about any of this. I couldn’t.”
“So you lied about everything, including being Jewish? Why?” I asked.
“I really like Jewish guys. I knew I could find one on JewDater. And I did. I can’t help it if I’m attracted to balding, thirty-something, Jewish guys. I do wish I picked one with a job, though.”
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing here. You are standing here telling me you lied about everything and then you are insulting me! You have to take me home. I can’t be here.”
“You can’t! You have to stay! Please! I’ll do anything.”
Whoa! Really? I switched gears. “Anything, eh? One, I don’t want to talk to Uncle Josh anymore. That guy scares me. Two, I’m not pretending to be Born Again. Three, I want to have a lot of loving tonight. Four, when we get back to the City we are going to date like normal people. Agreed?” I was laying the law down.
“Date like normal people. I think I would like that,” she smiled. We went back inside and braved the holiday, this time together.
The next morning, when we woke up, we all ran downstairs to see what Santa had left for us. Piggy was now in girlfriend mode, hugging and squeezing me like a little kid as she opened up her presents. Her parents were okay with the fact that I was Jewish, and that their daughter had lied to them. After all, this was Christmas, and they jumped right into the Christmas spirit. As Piggy was opening up her presents I surveyed the scene, and thought to myself, ‘What was a nice Jewish boy doing opening up presents on Christmas?’ I mean, I was a nice Jewish boy from a nice Jewish town. I never even saw Christmas lights on a house until I was in college. And here I was, running down the stairs to see what Santa had left for me under the tree. I hoped it was a job. I knew that I had been good all year. I mean, I went to synagogue on Yom Kippur to repent for my whole year of sins. I hoped that Santa cross-references the Book of Life to make sure he didn’t leave anyone off his list.
When all the Christmas songs faded, I came away with a new outlook on Piggy. I actually enjoyed spending the holiday with her. I was looking forward to the times we would have together back in the City.