An old story




Just thinking about something that happened a looong time ago. I was 20 years old and at a friends place for his 21st birthday party. I was feeling extremely awkward. My friend and I were kind of dating, that awkward stage when you’re flirting and making out but nothing ‘official’ has been declared to each other. He was drinking and feeling confident he decided that he would broadcast our change in status to everyone there by being extemely clingy. Not an ideal situation since I was the only non white at this party and I was feeling uncomfortable to say the least. My friend was tall, big and blonde and I was… not! Well, white and blonde anyway.

His family were very sweet to me although I’m pretty sure they were wondering what this boy was doing with me. My other friends had all had to leave early and I was supposed to get a ride home with my friend who, up until that night, was not much of a drinker!

So the evening wore on and he became more and more drunk and with each shooter he became more jovial and less of his shy, introverted self. I was sticking to his cousin, and equally big, but dark haired guy who I had met previously and his sisters who were in school and thrilled at my presence. When the birthday boy pulled me onto the dance floor I should have known it was going to get bad, my friend can’t dance, not to save his life. But he decided that he wanted to whip me around the dance floor, which was actually the paving on his drive way, and he had a lot of strength.

There I was, trying my best to boogie it down to Kurt Darren’s latest hit while trying to keep from falling. I didn’t know the man had it in him but before long he was literally picking me up and swinging me around. Gah! I wanted to die. Eventually I convinced him to take a break and make a quick get away and ended up in his bedroom.

I needed to get home and he was too drunk to drive me. His cousin and sisters walked in and heard him tell me to stay over. Yeah right! My parents would kill not to mention what his family would think. His sisters begged me to stay, I could sleep in their bedroom and they promised to do my hair and makeup. Things were getting bad! The cousin said that he was still fine to drive and would take me home.

I sighed in relief, I was safe. Surprisingly enough my friend didn’t think this was a good idea for him to drive me and he pulled me back from this guy. The sisters were kicked out and little heated argument ensued between the two in Afrikaans. Most of which went completely over my head.

In a mix of English and Afrikaans his cousin blurted out something along the lines of ‘She’s just a girl, why are you getting so angry over her?’ To which my very drunk knight is shining armour responded ‘She’s not just a girl, she’s a Woman…’ and I didn’t catch the rest but I got his meaning.

The argument blew over and I ended up staying over. For the first time in my life I felt like a woman. Not some little girl, but a mature, adult woman. I can’t explain it but I experienced a rush of confidence and little thrill of excitement.

The next day I asked my friend what was up with that moment. According to him his cousin had a tendancy to get into trouble, especially with females and didn’t want me getting into a car with him. He also admitted that when they were younger they would play ‘wing man’ for each other and score girls for each other for making out sessions. His cousin wanted to do the same with me and my friend reminded him that they weren’t young and I wasn’t just one of those girls.

It sound worse that it was, I very much doubt his cousin was going to take advantage of me or anything, not like I would have let him but I was grateful for my friend standing up to him on my behalf. For the first time I felt respected as a woman and my ego was purring at the fact that he felt the need to protect me. The feeling has stayed with me since then.


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