The Frontman by Ron Bahar

Author:Ron Bahar
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SparkPress
Published: 2018-05-05T04:00:00+00:00

“All I want to do when I wake up in the morning is see your eyes . . . Rosanna, Rosanna . . .”

We all began to chug, refill, and chug. Five down, sixteen to go. I mean it’s not as though I had never drunk alcohol before. In fact, I was well acquainted with the warm feeling that ascends over one’s face even with the first sip of red wine. Beer was different. It was cold and bitter, and there was no subsequent warmth, or fuzziness for that matter, especially when consumed in this fashion.

Thirteen down, eight to go. Already buzzed and uninhibited, I looked at my friends. Their proximity and their silly, intoxicated grins appeared to be linked together like a string of pearls, especially with the effect of the PBR. I was no longer worried about who was going to drive the Duster home. Instead, through the fog, I was somehow able focus on my spectacular performance, my even more spectacular rejection, and on Julia. Yes, Julia. Just behind Tommy, she was staring . . . at me. Despite my inebriation, it was at this point that I understood that Julia’s solicitation was real . . .

Twenty-one. Good God, was I drunk. I had no idea where Amy was and, at that point, I really didn’t care. Tommy jumped on the island to grab everyone’s attention. “For the first time, thanks to ‘Rosanna,’ the doctor of rock and roll is officially wasted!” The room exploded with a combination of cheering and laughter. Tommy then hopped down and put his arm around me before offering me some fatherly advice. “Ron . . . you’re the man right now . . . make the most of it.” He then launched a loud, smelly, and protracted belch in my face before walking away. Thanks, Dad.

Julia wasted no time. From across the kitchen, she tilted her head to motion me upstairs. She was excruciatingly hot, and I was exceedingly shit-faced, so I followed. The house was exceptionally crowded, so I kept a small distance and about twenty people between us so no one would notice. I had been to the Hanson’s house many times, and I knew the layout well. Just ahead, I could see her entering Tommy’s sister Susan’s bedroom. After about thirty seconds, I walked in.

Julia had already removed her dress, and lay on the bed wearing nothing but panties and a bra. I was shocked; she smiled. She was magnificent, and she knew it. “Do you have any protection?” she asked. She was horny and drunk, but she wasn’t stupid. “No glove, no love,” she added, matter-of-factly.

If someone had asked me the prior fall if I would be in the position where I could decide to forgo waiting to lose my virginity to my beautiful, intelligent, charming, and loving girlfriend, and instead blow my wad with some crazy-hot temptress who was attracted by my transient rock-star qualities, I’m fairly certain I would have said “no.” Was it my

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