Suburban Melissa

I was at work on Wednesday trading emails with Suburban Melissa. Suburban Melissa wrote that she had recently done backup vocals on a recording by a local indie rocker and I asked if she was looking for groupies. She responded that if I wanted to be her groupie I'd have to provide her with sex, booze and pills. I wrote back that I'd willingly provide the first, the second was no problem but the only pills I had around were vitamin C. So, she hopped on a train and we met up for drinks.

The last time I slept with Suburban Melissa was back in April. Before that, it was in December. Despite her sobriquet, Suburban Melissa is actually something of a late-30s hipster whose parental duties keep her in the suburbs. Blonde, blue-eyed and buxom, she is a former art student who ended up marrying a banker and we all know what happens when free-spirited women marry the kind of men who go into banking. After their divorce, she moved into a house on the lake in one of Chicago's nicer suburbs but absolutely hates suburban living and dreams of moving back to the city.

She is also a keen follower of the local music scene and possesses an encyclopedic knowledge of rock music. As well as an impressive collection of concert t-shirts.

She told me over drinks that she gets into the city quite a bit for interior decorating jobs and had wanted to give me a call but thought I might be seeing someone. Then she asked me about Christy:

"Christy left some pretty provocative messages on your myspace. Were you sleeping with her?"

"Yes."

"Ha! I KNEW it! I KNEW it! She was not discreet at all! So tell me, how was the sex?"

If most women I've dated had asked this question, I would not have responded. Suburban Melissa is, however, more frank than the average bear and I told her that sex with someone who's totally into you will always be fun, but Christy was pretty conservative---not into talking dirty, head-reticent, etc., and a bit of a nag if she didn't get the attention she felt was her due.

Suburban Melissa laughed.

"I know women like that. Be careful with the married ones---a lot of them will see you as a way out. An escape. You live in the city, you're in shape, sophisticated, good conversation..."

"Please don't stop there...."

"....and married life in the 'burbs can suck. I bet Christy left those messages on myspace hoping to get caught. Saying Fuck You to her husband before she left him. I know women like that. I know what they're like. That's not what I like. ......."

Then she said, "I don't want to "be made love to." I want to be fucked."

After another glass of wine, we left for my apartment. The sex was raunchy and uninhibited. Suburban Melissa is confident enough to let me know what she likes and she said and did things that got me totally excited and the next morning, we had round 2. I'm not really a morning sex guy, but I will totally make an exception for her.

We shared a cab downtown---her to Union Station, me to work.

"I hate living in the suburbs, David. I feel alive in the city. It's like a third cup of coffee. When I get off the train in the suburbs, I feel dead."

Then, "Next time we get together, I want you to fuck my ass."

Last night after film class, I got together with Waffle and Grandpa for a drink. We went to a sushi-nightclub hybrid that piped forgotten 80s tunes just a bit too loud but not overpowering loud and Grandpa told us about his trip to Isthanbul. We wound up debating the merits of the Ottoman vs. British empires when the lights came on and the bartender told us he was closing up for the night. Tonight I'm going out with Marla. And I don't think I've had a decent night's sleep all week.