Firsts

Aerosmith was never one of our favorites. We were metal heads and hard rock fans, right down to every last dollar of our paychecks. If a band was in town, we wanted to be there. But Aerosmith was never at the top of our list. There is one song however, one Steven Tyler special permanently placed n the soundtrack of our lives. We weren't in an elevator, but it didn't matter...

I can't remember where my mom was, out of town overnight or out on an excursion, but I knew she wouldn't be home. In no way did I plan the outcome of the evening, but in retrospect it doesn't seem hard to put together. I had invited him over for dinner, and was planning to cook for him for the first time. I was making one of my specialties, chicken parmesan. A few things got in the way that night. I had sprained my ankle at a football game and was on crutches. As if that wasn't bad enough, I was hopping on one foot across the kitchen and sideswiped a trash bag waiting to go out. Blood everywhere. There was glass at the bottom of the bag. I was expecting him any minute and hurriedly cleaned up the horror movie scene that was me dragging a bloody foot to the sink. Two bad feet, one special meal to get on the table. Miraculously, I made it happen. I thought I was being so mature, so romantic. We enjoyed the meal. I think. I barely remember that part of the night, because not too long afterward he carried me upstairs to my room so we could listen to music and make out*. My feet were both out of commission, so taking to the bed was an obvious choice. Hot and heavy with hairbands playing in the background, it was nothing unusual. I wish I could remember the one thing led to another part, but I don't. All I remember is losing my virginity to Love in an Elevator. I remember it hurt a little. I remember I really thought I loved him, and I believed he loved me. I guess I was right. We've been together ever since.

*Am I dating myself with that term?