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When I was 19, I lived in the mid west for a short time. I stayed in a hotel and made friends with everybody that worked there. We started hanging out together in off time, and I soon started crushing on a girl who’s mom owned and ran the hotel. The only problem was the daughter was married, and her husband bar tended at the hotel so we knew each other well. As you can imagine, I spent a lot of time in the bar and even had a revolving tab.
One night, the wife, husband, another guy and another girl went bowling. We drank quite a bit and closed down the alley. For some reason, the wife and I along with the other chick were in the back seat. I was in the middle. The other chick was from Austria (why she was in Wisco I have no idea).
Me and the Austrian chick started mashing (hot blond that maybe weighed a buck 10), and before too long, the wife asked if she could get some. Then her and I started mashing. Her husband in the front seat saw this in the visor mirror. He immediately turn around, clenched his fist, gritted his teeth and glared at me.
He recoiled his fist, turned to his wife and popped her in the face.
I can’t believe he didn’t kick *MY* ass.
That was the last time I kissed Michelle.
I'm hooked on etymology, folklore, writing, live music, and making movies. I jam the axe and I'm currently learning how to beat the skins. I write cool software and meaningful screenplays.
I like to drive fast with the top down in the rain with the music cranked.
My tastes in TV, music, film, and literature are broad but obscure. I keep a journal, write screenplays, compose music, take many pictures, and create software.
When camping at night, you can find me staring into the campfire either playing the guitar or telling a spooky story under the moonlight. I love thunder storms, Friday is my favorite day and my favorite number is 9. 
Dave, this is a great story! Thanks.