By Amanda Beasley
“This is Olivia, how can I help you tonight?” I said with a yawn.
Thank God the clock said 3:40, almost time to go home and sleep for the remainder
of the night.
“Hi, yeah. My name is Jason. Umm...I
have a problem,” said a nervous voice.
I rolled my eyes in annoyance.
They always had to be so frickin’ nervous.
Like I really cared about their problems or something.
I’m sure I’d heard this one before too.
“Well, that’s what I’m here for,
don’t be shy, I’m all ears,” I said attempting to be pleasant while twirling
a black Bic pen between my bright pink fingernails.
“Oh, right,” Jason continued, “Well,
see I just started having sex with this girl I’m dating and well, I think
I’m too large for her because it seems like I’m hurting or something…I don’t
know what to do.”
Oh, the classic, “my dick is too
big” problem. Poor guy. I felt like reminding him how lucky he was.
Most guys would kill for a huge one. Instead,
I told him the same old shit.
“Well, have you had problems with
this in the past?”
“No.”
“So, it’s just this girl?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” he said with
an exasperated sigh.
“Well, hate to break it to you,
but most likely she’s too small, not you’re too big.”
“Oh….really?” Jason said. I think he was disappointed.
I continued to ask him questions:
Is she lubricated? Are you rushing the process? Was she a virgin?
Blah, blah, blah.
“Yes, she’s lubricated. We always go slow. Yeah, I think she was a virgin,” he said.
“Well, there’s your problem.
Just give it time and if she doesn’t start feeling better in a few
attempts, either call me back or she may need to go to the gynecologist, okay?”
I put the phone down and switched
to commercial, while picking up a Snickers. Why didn’t a bell go off in his
damn head? If she were a virgin she
was going to be small and it would hurt the first few times. Duh. That’s
why I am somewhat dreading my first time.
Oops. Now you know. Yeah, I admit it.
I’m a twenty-three year old virgin.
It’s not that I don’t want to have sex because I love sex. Well, I
assume I do. In fact, my life is sex, but I guess that’s only because I have
my own late night radio show, Oh! Oh! Olivia--all sex, all the time.
When I started working here during my sophomore year at Penn State,
it was supposed to be temporary. I had desperately needed money to cover rent
and unfortunately, because of my busy schedule, the am hours were the only
I could work. Although, I had to sacrifice
my night of sleep, it was okay. I
had economics class for that. Back
then, WRTY’s ratings were plummeting due to competition from Penn’s campus
station, WTPS. They thought a late night talk show about relationships &
love would spice it up. They said I had spunk. I was the guinea pig and because
of my success, the ratings had hit the top, and so had my paycheck (which
was a mere $50 a show back then.) Despite
the late hours, I stuck around to listen to people’s problems not only because
of the money, but because it was fun. However, the whole “relationships and love”
theme had quickly been misconstrued because apparently the only relationship
problems people have at three in the morning deal with sex. Within four months of my hiring the show’s
title went from the boring “Olivia on Love” to the not-so-boring “Oh! Oh!
Olivia.”
Because of the nature of the show, people think I know everything.
But the truth is, I don’t have a clue. I get my “really great advice” as so
many viewers tell me, by watching MTV’s Loveline and reading Cosmo.
But, don’t think I’m completely inexperienced or anything. I’ve been
with a couple guys, but none of them were suitable enough to go all the way.
The first guy was at some frat party my freshman year at Penn State.
Of course, we were completely trashed and up in his stuffy loft next
to a concrete blue wall and a picture of Pamela Anderson. Only a blanket was
hiding us from the rest of the giggling sorority girls who were all hanging
over one select frat guy. He had a red scarf dangling around his neck
onto a bare chest, probably part of the seduction act by the giggly girl in
black pants #3. (They all looked exactly alike.) The music was blasting from
the room next door, I think it was some song by Usher, and there I was laying
in a loft with my white tank top pulled up to my chest and my khaki pants
to my ankles. I was making out with “the hottest guy in Sigma Nu[AB1],” my friend Amy had told me earlier that night. I don’t even remember
his name, but I do remember the row of silver climbing up his left ear and
the stud stuck through his eyebrow. Oh,
and how can I forget the dirt decorating his fingernails.
“So, Liv, I heard you suck dick,” hottest guy said to me with his
blond hair poking me in the chin as he fondled my breasts with his tongue,
which was pierced as well.
Well, that was the end of that guy. I sobered up quickly after he said that. I had thrown him off of
me, sat up, hit my head on the ceiling, fell over, and proceeded to jump off
his loft as I desperately tried to fasten my pants. The giggly girls looked
at me briefly and rolled their eyes. I heard them whisper, “what a prude.”
After that incident, I had sworn to myself to only sleep with the
perfect man—one with perfect hands and absolutely no body piercings. (Of course,
he had to be educated, funny, good-looking, sensitive, creative, and good
with kids as well.) I thought I had found the perfect man once. Jack and I had dated for two months before
I encountered a quite repulsive gold bar stuck through the head of his penis.
Needless to say, Mr. Perfect hasn’t landed himself in my pants.
The commercial had ended and I stuffed the remaining Snickers in
my mouth.
“Hi, Philadelphia. We’re gonna wrap this up and take one more call
before I’m outta here.”
I hit line three impatiently. “Hi, this is Olivia. How can I help
you tonight?”
“Hi, Olivia,” said a calm voice.
The girls were always relaxed. “My name is Ashley and my problem is
I’m kind of getting disgusted by my boyfriend.
See, every time he cums, he farts and I really don’t think he notices
it, but I sure as hell do!”
I tried to sustain my laughter as she continued to ramble about her
farting boyfriend. This was definitely
a new one. I wasn’t really sure what
to say so I made up a bs medical excuse for his farting syndrome and told
her to talk to her boyfriend about it. She
thanked me and I hung up, glad it was finally 4:00.
“Olivia, I think you know that last call was sloppy,” said
Amanda, my boss as she entered the room with her blonde curls bouncing in
an annoyingly perky fashion.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, I’m just tired,”
I said trying to weasel my way out of the studio without another lecture from
Amanda. What the hell did she know?
I thought, walking out to my Neon.
She’d only been at the station for three months and I had been there
for nearly three years. I sighed as I opened the door, making sure
a killer wasn’t lurking in the back seat.
Maybe it was time for a new job. After
all, I had graduated six months ago and should be doing something a little
more productive with my journalism degree. But making a hundred bucks a night seemed like a good enough reason
to stick around. Besides, without
me the show would just be “Oh! Oh!”––Glad I didn’t have to go back until Monday.
When I woke up the next morning, well the
next afternoon, I called my best friend Matt Schafer. We always went to lunch at Lily’s Pizzeria on Saturday afternoons.
Matt is the perfect man. I would give anything for him to be my first,
although he doesn’t know this. He’s
about as sweet as he can be, never neglecting to hold doors open or bring
me flowers when I’m down. And of course,
he’s hole free and his nails are always clipped to perfection. In addition to nice hands, he’s a good-looking
lawyer. Okay, so why the hell aren’t we together? Of course––the catch. He lives with some new guy, in the same bed.
Don’t they all? Seriously, every guy I thought was going to
be my ‘perfect man’ turns out to be gay.
How annoying. Well, I was getting
fed up.
“Hey Liv,” Matt said when he picked up the
phone. Gosh, even his voice was sexy.
Nothing like the stereotypical gay guys that slur all their words together
to sound feminine, “I caught the first half of your show last night.
Like how you told that guy to jack off before he goes out with a girl
to avoid ‘unwanted’ embarrassment.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said sarcastically as I
dropped a Smores Pop Tart in the toaster, “That one’s from Something About
Mary.”
“Yeah, I thought so. So you
up for lunch today?” Matt asked. I
heard him typing on his computer.
“Sure, what are you working on?”
“Just some judgement for the Weir case, nothing
fun. Give me twenty minutes. Can’t
wait. See you then,” and hung up.
I hate when he talked in fragments like that.
Maybe he wasn’t entirely perfect.
I removed my Pop Tart from the toaster, poured a glass of 2% milk,
and sat down to watch Loveline, which I had taped the night before
as usual. Matt arrived exactly twenty
minutes later, as he said, and I was still watching Loveline and taking
notes for my collection.
I quickly dressed in jeans and an orange
pull-over sweater while pulling my long brown hair into a twist.
“Matt, I’m sick of it,” I confessed to him after we had ordered
our usual cheese bread.
“Sick of what? Me?”
Well, yeah, I thought to myself. Sick of you being freaking gay anyway.
“No, I want my perfect man--today,” of course
he knew what I would say. I complained
about it all the time.
He laughed as he took a swig of his drink.
“Liv, what did I tell you last time you were whining about this.
As I intensely studied the fizz in my own
Pepsi, I knew exactly what he had told me. But, this time, I opted to feign
pure and utter cluelessness. “Liv? Will you answer me?” he continued. “For
God’s sake, you look like you’re hunting for him in your coke cup. You’ve
got to stop obsessing and being so picky or it’s never gonna happen.” (this,
of course, is what he had told me over our last lunch at Lily’s.)
I
looked stubbornly out the window as I tore at my bread. It really didn’t seem
like I was going to ever find someone to suit me. Maybe I should just become
a lesbian, I thought. Nah, men were just much too sexy. Or, maybe, I should
just jump Matt’s bones and see what happens. Nah, I watched “Object of my
Affection” two days ago on HBO. I hadn’t worked for Jennifer Anniston, so
it probably wouldn’t work for me either. Matt was just so, you know…do-able.
“Liv? What are you thinking about?” Matt
said as he snapped his fingers in front of my face.
I grinned sweetly, my hard-headed expression
softening, “Oh, nothing.”
“Yea h, uh-huh. Well, anyways, speaking of
guys and all, I have another guy for you,” he said playfully as he brushed
my hair of my cheek. Why did he have
to keep touching me like that?
“Oh, who is it this time?” I said, rolling
my eyes. He was always trying to set me up with his colleagues or sometimes
even his clients.
“Well, you know Nick right?”
“Yeah, of course,” I had heard a lot about Nick, but in the two years
Matt and I had been friends, I had never met his brother.
“He just came back to Philly this week from
New York for his ten year class reunion and needs a date.”
“Does he look like you?” I blurted out without
meaning too. Damn, that sucks.
Matt looked at me in surprise with his blue
eyes sparkling suspiciously, “I didn’t know you found me attractive Liv.”
Hell yeah I do. I felt the blush start to arise in my cheeks. My secret had been revealed. Well, part of
it anyway.
“Well, yeah, you’re kinda cute,” I said trying
to cover it up.
We talked about his so-called hottie brother
Nick through cheese bread and pepperoni pizza. Matt finally convinced me to
go with him to the reunion that night. Matt
assured me that he would not tell Nick about Oh! Oh! Olivia! The show was
usually one of those things I liked to keep secret, the little mystery about
me. And the fact that I’m a virgin
of course.
I looked at myself in the mirror. What a knock-out you are, Liv. I had selected a short, black spaghetti strap
dress in hopes of catching some guy’s eye, whether it is Nick himself, or
another interested Amber High graduate.
Nick had called me earlier that day to apologize for such short notice,
saying it was all Matt’s idea. He
seemed sweet on the phone so I thought I actually might give him a chance,
even though I was a little skeptical about everything after Matt had re-informed
me that I was obsessed
When he arrived, I was pleasantly surprised
to see a guy that actually did look kind of like Matt. Same height, same build, black hair. The only major difference was the big brown
puppy dog eyes that stared back at me as he handed me three daisies. His hands were clean.
“Liv, I don’t even know ya, but thanks for
coming with me tonight,” he said with a smile that nearly turned me into a
puddle of Olivia.
Everything about him made me crazy.
I loved his friends, who couldn’t believe he was there with such a
“babe” as I heard them call me. Apparently,
he had been a huge dork in high school,
which I found quite entertaining. Later, during a slide show it was confirmed
when I saw him playing an oboe at a pep rally.
That wasn’t the bad part though. He
actually had tape on his black glasses. I joked with him all night about it.
“So, I have to know,” I said to him later
as we danced.
“What?”
“Do you have any unseen body piercings?”
“Umm...not that I’m aware of,” he said as
he pulled me in closer. His breath
smelled like mint and beer. A pleasant
mix. “How come?”
“Well, I kind of have an obsession with finding
the right guy,” I said and suddenly felt stupid.
I proceeded to tell him exactly what I wanted
in a guy, including my requirements.
“I guess it’s kind
of silly to be so nit-picky, I just want a guy who will treat me right and
has nice hands and a nice ass wouldn’t hurt,”
We both chuckled as I felt my cheeks turn red.
“So, do I have a nice ass,” he asked with
a smile. Oh, that smile.
I swatted it playfully, “It’s been confirmed,”
I couldn’t believe I felt so comfortable with a guy I had just met.
We
danced all evening and, don’t laugh, but I know he had a hard-on later in
the night during Lady in Red. It
was actually really cute. I just had
to tease him about it because that’s the kind of girl I am.
“So Mr. Schafer, you must like me, huh?”
“How can you be so sure, Liv?” he said as
he smiled slyly,
“Umm…” I pointed down.
“Oops, sorry,” he said with a blush and then
made light of the situation, “You make me randy baby,” Nick said in a cheesy
Austin Powers voice.
I burst out laughing and he led me off the floor.
“Where are we going,”
I asked.
“Stay,” he said playfully as he sat me down in a chair next
to a table covered with beer cans and popcorn.
He kneeled down on one knee. Oh
my gosh, what was he doing? Instead
of pulling out a ring, (okay my mind was a bit farfetched) he pulled off my
satin black shoe and kissed my toes lightly.
“Umm…Nick, what are you doing?”
“I have a confession,” he said as he looked adoringly at my
perfectly pink pedicured toenails, “I’m obssessed with feet. If a girl doesn’t have beautiful feet, she’s
not my perfect girl. And Liv, you
have beautiful feet.”
As he pulled me down
for a kiss with Amber High as a witness, I realized that Nick was perfect.
Well, so far.
Two days later on Monday at around 7:00,
I went to see Nick, who was staying at Matt’s.
For once, I was relieved Matt wasn’t around. It was the third day in
a row we had seen each other. I knew
he would be heading back to New York in the morning and I was already feeling
really depressed about it. Since he
had admitted his feet obsession, we both had felt very connected. On Sunday, we discovered we had even more in
common when he admitted he loved the “Golden Girls.” Any guy that watches that show, is definitely my type. He loved long passionate kisses (so do I),
movies (we saw two), and he even took me shopping. When we had passed by the jewelry store was when it happened though.
He guided me in saying he wanted to look at watches. He then paused at the rings and told me the
full carat emerald solitaire would look beautiful on me.
He blushed, “I shouldn’t have said that,
I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay,” I said. Inside my heart
was bursting. I had never felt that
way about anyone, but of course, an awkward moment was followed by his comment
and it was eventually forgotten. It
was then I thought that he must have feelings for me, but tried to ignore
that because he would be leaving on Tuesday morning.
Nick seemed like he could easily become my
Mr. Right. Not only his hands and his piercing-less body, but the way he held
my face when we were kissing, and the way he gazed into my eyes before we
did it. A connection was definitely there, one that I had never felt with
anyone. I wanted him more than anything.
By that night, I was ready to sleep with him, despite the face he was leaving
in the morning. It was tonight or
never and I thought having sex might actually make us work. Don’t ask me why, because I had repeatedly
told my listeners not to do that.
“Nick, I’ve really like having you around
the last few days,” I started. We
were sitting on the couch trying to decide where to go to dinner. He had his
hand on my thigh and it was working it up under my short navy skirt.
I didn’t have to say anything else. Before long we were rolling around on the bed
in Matt’s guestroom as we threw clothes everywhere, suddenly desperate to
be naked. Okay, now I have a little
confession––the foreplay and all that, it was great. He really knew what he was doing, if you know what I mean. But the actual intercourse sucked. It hurt and I know he could tell because he
was trying to slow it down. Highly
disappointing.
“Are you okay, Liv?” Nick said as he ran his fingers through my
hair when it was over. I had my back
to him and he was spooning me. Now
this was nice.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, I guess I’m just a little
tense,” I said. I can’t believe I’m
lying naked next to this gorgeous man, I kept thinking. I’m not a virgin anymore.
That is too weird. But I had no regrets because this was the man
I wanted. I was falling in love with
him.
Matt came home at around 11:30 that night.
I sat straight up and looked at the clock.
SHIT! I had to go to work, oh dammit, dammit, dammit.
I searched for my clothes and finally pieced together my jeans, bra,
and sweater. Screw the panties. This
was not good.
I looked at Nick longingly but didn’t have
the heart to tell him I had to leave. I
ran downstairs nearly plowing into Matt.
He eyed me suspiciously and noticed my black
thong panties in my right hand, which I had stumbled upon on my way out the
door.
“Are you doing what I think you’re doing,
Liv?” he asked as he put down his briefcase on the stairs.”
“Tell
him I’m sorry, I have to go to work, but don’t tell him that, bye,” I yelled
in a whisper as I turned to run to my car.
“Liv, wait, I need to tell you something,”
Matt said with concern as he came towards me.
“What ?” I said as I crumpled my panties
up and stuffed them in my pocket.
“Well, I don’t really know how to tell you
this, but my brother is kind of an asshole with girls. The love ‘em and leave ‘em type.”
My heart fell and my eyes began to flash
at him. “What? How could you do this to me? You knew it was
getting serious. You had to.” I dropped
my purse and stood sullenly at his doorway.
“I
should have told you before this ever happened. I’m really sorry.”
“Matt, he seemed so perfect for me. I think
I was starting to fall in love with him,” I admitted as a tear dropped on
my cheek. I wiped it off angrily and remembered that I was mad at Matt. “I gotta go, I’m too pissed at you to talk about
this now.”
I slammed the door behind me and ran to my
car. I was going to be late.
Well, so much for the perfect man, or the
perfect first time. Both sucked. What
an asshole. I was still in tears when
I accepted my first call of the evening.
“This is Olivia. What can I help you with tonight?” I said with my voice cracking.
The girl’s problem was that her mother had found her 101 Nights
of Great Sex book and she didn’t know what to do. Get over it, mom you’re daughter’s freaking 25 I thought.
Another problem, after another, after another. Why was sex so important to everyone? Maybe I should listen to my own advice and
realize that sex will get better with time.
I had thought I had found Mr. Perfect and he was history—again. I didn’t know if I could ever talk to Matt
again. He had let me fall for a jerk. I was feeling so many emotions now I could
hardly speak. I was mad and sad all
at once. Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I was asking for it prancing around flirtatiously
in my little skirts. Maybe I’d be
too forward. I guess the whole ring
thing was just part of his routine. I had so many thoughts racing through my head
I didn’t know which ones to listen too. The
phone rang snapping me awake.
“This is Olivia, What can I help you with tonight?”
A familiar voice
came on the line.
“Hi, ummm…this
is Nick.”
I was certainly
surprised when I heard his voice again. Why was he calling? Did he know it was me? Did Matt say something?
“Hi Nick, what
can I help you with?” I said seductively, trying to hide my voice.
“I think I really messed up tonight. See, I met this girl over the weekend and she’s
absolutely wonderful. We spent the
whole time together and tonight she came over and we had sex, and she acted
like she was in pain almost, I asked her about it and she said it was nothing,”
he paused, it almost sounded like he was fighting back tears, “ But, then
I woke up two hours later and she had taken off.
I don’t know why. I thought
everything was great. I just don’t know why she acted like the sex stunk or
something.”
Gee, had I really
been that obvious? What he said next
made my jaw drop,
“I think I’m in love with her.” I fought to concentrate and pretend he was
a normal caller.
“Well, Nick did you ever consider that she
might have been a virgin saving herself for someone special and it was her
first time so it hurt?” I rambled
non-professionally trying to maintain myself.
Was he telling the truth? He
had to be. I don’t see how he could
possibly know it was me.
“Did you enjoy the sex?” I asked eager to know more.
“Well, yeah, I mean what guy doesn’t? But I hated seeing her in so much pain. Do you think she really was a virgin? I mean that’s hard to believe. She’s so beautiful
and charming.” He said.
“I think it’s a definite possibility,” I
said with a smile and the call over.
When I got off work that night, I went to
talk to Nick. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe
Matt was wrong. I didn’t know what
to think.
Nick had been
asleep on the couch wearing nothing but red plaid boxers when I walked in
the house. He had the phone on his
chest as if he were waiting for my call.
He jumped as the door slammed behind me.
“Liv?” He said
through the TV’s light.
I sat down on
the sofa next to him. “Hi Nick. I’m Olivia,” I said as I stuck out my hand.
I don’t know why I did that, but it was the only thing I could think
of.
He looked at
me with bewilderment, not making the connection.
I nodded towards
the phone and realized. “Shit, Liv,
I had no idea. Why didn’t you just
tell me?”
“I’m sorry,
I wish I would have,” I paused, “I really am sorry.”
Matt came in
the room sleepily in his navy robe. He
came over and gave me a kiss on the head.
“I didn’t tell him about your show, I just told him to call it for
advice,” said Matt with a smile at his brother, “We had a long talk and I
guarantee this guy is crazy about you.”
“Is that true?” I said turning to Nick.
“It’s completely
true Liv, I’m not messing with you,” he said as he stood up to kiss my cheek.
“Okay, well, I can see that’s my cue to leave,”
Matt said as he hugged me, “you kids have fun.”
“Thanks Matt.”
I
took one look at Nick’s hands and smiled at him. He gazed down at my feet and we burst out laughing.
“I never thought I
would meet you ‘lil lady,” he said as he kissed me softly. Before I knew it, he had whisked me up the
stairs and we made love until the sun came up. But this time it was good.