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My Second Memory Of The Central Wyoming Fair And Rodeo

CWFR
Nick Perkins, townsquaremedia.com

As a kid in Casper Wyoming, our summers revolved around two things- the pool and the Central Wyoming Fair and Rodeo. So imagine my delight when, one summer when I was 13 years old, I was able to combine the two with my other favorite thing ever- a girl. This is the story of that day.

Brandon and I were lookin’ good. As far as 13-year-old boys went, we were pretty ripped. Brandon had calves the size of calves (get it?) and even 11 years ago, my abs were a sight to behold. So it was no surprise that we were the center of many a lady’s attention. There were two girls however, who had our attention as well. I still remember their names- Christina and Melinda. I don’t know what it was about them. Perhaps it was the way the sun glistened off their skin. Maybe it was the fact that the water made their eyeliner a little runny. It could possibly have been that we were 13 and they had boobs. Regardless, we thought we were in love.

With great trepidation, we approached the two girls with a cunning gaze and a charming smile. We started talking to them, both Brandon and I playing the perfect wingmen for each other. We complimented them, then insulted them, then complimented ourselves, then insulted them again. It was very similar to how I pick up girls even today. Somehow, it worked. We spent the rest of the afternoon horsing around together, with Brandon and I stealing occasional glances at their post-pubescent cleavage. It was awesome. Then the time came to part ways, but before we did they asked us a question that would change our lives’.

“Do you guys want to go to the fair tonight?”

Yes, we did. And we would. And Brandon and I decided that this would be it- this would be the night that we kissed girls. We quickly got their number and scrambled home , our tummies full of butterflies and our eyes filled with enchantment. Tonight would be the night, the night I waited years for. Brandon  and I went over all of the possibilities. Would there be tongue? No tongue? Where would we do it? Could we cop a feel? The possibilities were endless, as were our daydreams about them. But then, almost at the same time, Brandon and I had the same concern- ‘Um, we don’t know how to kiss.’

Stupid! How could we have made such a broad oversight!? Ok, don’t panic. We still have a few hours. What do we do? We could practice on our arms. No, that wouldn’t work. We could practice on each other. No, that’s sort of weird. And then it hit me! Like the light bulb that lit up above Thomas Edison’s head right before he invented the, um, light bulb, I was about to make the greatest invention of all time. I quickly gathered the necessary materials- a body pillow, a Sting mask, one of my sister’s bras, and a couple rolled up socks. I went to work, quietly and efficiently and when I was done, I stood back and surveyed my handiwork.

There, lying on my bed, was the first girl I was going to kiss. Sure, it wasn’t actually real. No, it didn’t really look like a girl at all. But it had lips and boobs and that was all I needed. I mounted the pillow and began to go to town. Brandon didn’t really want to go after me. I guess I didn’t really blame him, but whatever. I’ll make out with his girlfriend too. For the next 20 minutes I went over all of the possible scenarios. Tongue, no tongue, groping. I even think I tried to unsnap the bra. Then, the girls called us.

We got on the phone, acting as cool as can be, until Brandon blurted out “so are we gonna make out or what?” Fool. Kid had, and still has, no game. Luckily, the girls thought it was funny. They giggled and said yes, there would be some definite lip-on-lip action in our future. That was all we needed to hear. We hung up the phone and quickly decided what we were going to wear. Brandon decided on basketball shorts and a t-shirt. I opted for jeans and a wife beater (shut up, Eminem was big when I was 13. He was my idol).  But then, everything came crashing down around us.

My mother called us into the kitchen. She asked us if we were planning on meeting anybody at the fair. This was an odd question, one I wasn’t prepared for, so I did what came naturally- I lied. “Nah, it’s just us tonight. How come?” My mother looked at us for what seemed like an eternity, but what was probably only 5 seconds.  Then she said, “well then what’s this I hear about you making out with girls?”

The f*ck!? Does this woman know everything? Yes, she does. But in this particular matter, she had a little help, in the form of my older, sexually-frustrated-so-she-has-to-take-it-out-on-her-brother-who-is-actually-going-to-get-some sister, Sommer. Evidently, because she’s a terrible person, she had listened in on our entire conversation and then proceeded to relay the content to my overprotective mother. Because my mom had this wild idea that 13-year-olds shouldn’t be gallivanting around the fair, making out with strangers they met four hours ago, she decided to accompany us to the fair. All night. We saw the two girls once that night. We believe they saw us first, because they were laughing. And then they started talking to two different boys. We never saw them again, and that is my 2nd memory of the Central Wyoming Fair and Rodeo- the night I was [Expletive-Deleted]Blocked for the first time.

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