I had lunch in Panera Bread today, and it was very crowded. The place was mobbed with holiday shoppers of various stripes, ages and genders. The folks behind the counter were overworked and crazy, and if Friday is going to be at all like today, count me out. There was only one place to sit in the whole joint, one of the big overstuffed leather armchairs by the fake fireplace, which was not exactly conducive to trying to get the work done that I wanted to do, but I was prepared to try.
However, across from me in a big overstuffed leather loveseat was a couple. He was beefy and shorthaired, and she was elfin with lots of earrings, and they were talking about sex. Apparently after eyeing one anotherfor a lengthy period of time, they’d been at a party, gotten hammered, and eventually gone home to do it. They were recounting their earlier experiences and post coitally checking each other’s sexual histories out — there was even some talk about Weapons of Mass Destruction and Germ Warfare from the guy. As a warning, guys… this is not the best way to talk to your recent bed partner about STDs. The preferred protocol is a) before, and not after, and b) seriously, without referencing geopolitical affairs which you clearly do not understand.
In any case, the girl revealed that her first time was in a cornfield. “A cornfield?” the guy says in disbelief. “That’s sick. That’s totally wrong.” She went on about it for a bit, how it was a much older guy and she was too young, and… and…
By this point, I felt I needed to be going. However, I couldn’t resist (though in retrospect I probably should have). As I stood up and grabbed my bag, I said, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help overhearing…” and I couldn’t, since they were seated three feet in front of me, and they were loud,“… but losing one’s virginity in a cornfield is a 10,000 year old tradition, and it’s sacred. Maybe it didn’t happen in the best way. But it is a powerful thing, and I hope that many blessings and rewards are heaped upon you for it.”
And then I left.