Pancakes

The first time I saw Tony he was in a camouflage tank top and cut-off jean shorts that were much too tight for his abundance of behind. While the back woods, country boy look wasn’t exactly my cup of tea it was good enough to get my blood boiling. Or it may have been the fact that it was 103 degrees outside at the pool where we lifeguarded. It was love at the first time he called me ma’am with his not so southern, probably more hick than what should be attractive, accent.
I was a girl desperate for a knight in shining armor to save me from my current disaster of a relationship. The shininess could be sacrificed for camo as long as I got out.
I wasn’t the only one falling head over heels that day either. Much to my displeasure Tony had met my sister and decided that she was his soul mate.
Usually they call these situations a “love-triangle” but given that both my sister and I had boyfriends and no one knew who liked who I’m not sure if it counts the same.
In the meantime my father had also fallen for Tony. He was his right hand man at our pool where my dad, sister, Tony, and myself all worked. My self-professed soul mate had a way of always managing to end up at my house, not that I minded. When I got off duty of hanging out with my boyfriend at the time I would go home and soak up everything Tony had to say.
“So when will Abby be home?” Tony inquired.
“I think she’s with the bif right now. I can wait with for her with you,” I always had the uncatty ability to come up with the most ridiculous abbreviations and expressions when talking to boys I like.
“Oh well I think I’m going to just go then. Tell her I came by.”
I had to find a way to make him stay so I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “My mom has wine! We can get drunk and watch movies with her.” What a great idea on my part. Watching movies with someone’s mother is always so romantic.
About two hour and bottle of wine later, don’t ask how much of that was mine it was decided that Tony had to stay the night. This is where my dad having a bro-crush on him came in handy.
Needless to say I was ecstatic. The boy of my dreams was going to be in my house while I was asleep. The idea that he might even be taking a shower in my bathroom (naked in a room that was almost my bedroom!) had the butterflies in my stomach doing flips like they were prepping for the Olympic gymnastic team.
Now was my chance to show him my undying love for him and ask him to sweep me away from my current boyfriend and perhaps punch him in the face while he was at it. But I didn’t want to ask for too much.
He had said something about no one ever making him breakfast. I remembered this for the catalog of things he had said that I made in my mind. Pancakes! Clearly that was the way to profess my love.
The next morning I woke-up at 9AM and tried my hands at pancakes. I wasn’t particularly good at making anything besides ramen noodles and cereal. But pancakes, I thought I could do.
This happened to be a Sunday morning and being the great Catholic school girl that I am I was going and had to miss eating breakfast with my dream lover. My sister was lucky enough to get to enjoy the pancakes with Tony. But I was sure that he would make the connection between the comment he had made weeks ago and the fact that I had slaved over pancakes all morning long.
Shockingly (ok not really all that shocking), Tony didn’t call me later that afternoon to profess his love and we continued to just be friends both longing for someone we couldn’t have.
When I finally decided to leave my boyfriend I was sure that Tony would then see that I was the girl for him. Especially since we were now going to school in the same city several hours away from my siren of a sister.
My first weekend single, after a three year long relationship, I decided I was ready to get back on the horse and pursue my destiny. Being the forward thinking, feminist that I am I called Tony and made a plan for us to go to dinner. He was thrilled about it, but not because of me. Abby my sister was going to be coming also.
Upon arriving at the restaurant I realized quickly I had been duped. Not only was Abby crashing our date, but Tony brought along his best friend that he thought I would “get along great with.” I can smell a set-up when I see one and this definitely was one.
I left the restaurant with a broken heart but a stomach full of delicious barbeque.

Overtime I tried to forget about Tony since I clearly had no chance with him. Until New Years Eve rolled around and I ran into him at a mutual friends party. Decked out in my sluttiest but I’m still a classy lady dress and my brand new Jessica Simpson heels, I made my way across the room to say hello.
Turns out he didn’t really know anyone but our one friend in common at the party and we had a lot to catch up on. I glued myself to his side for the entire party attempting to snatch whatever alcohol I could to help me work up the guts to make a move at midnight.
Just my luck, instead of getting a romantic and passionate kiss at midnight, I waited for Tony while he was in the bathroom. Charming, I know. Since I’d missed my moment it seemed that getting hammered would be the best solution to my problems. Word to the wise, drinking more in almost every case is never the answer. Somehow I had left Tony and was having my own dance party in the bathroom (no really just dancing) with an old friend from high school.
That’s when a guy that I knew was kind of friends with Tony appeared holding my shoes. How he ended up with my heels I still can’t be entirely sure of. Apparently the police were about to bust the party so Tony had scrammed and was waiting around the block. His friend offered to take me there.
In retrospect I realize that following a practical stranger towards some bushes wasn’t my brightest moment. But lucky for me Tony actually was there waiting for me.
We then decided to go crash at my aunt’s empty house nearby. I was giddy with anticipation that there was a very good chance we would end up in the same bed; albeit, it would be a twin bed and probably not the easiest to maneuver in.
Being the smoldering temptress that I am my first move was to give Tony a tour of the house. This was no ordinary tour either. My best bet at seducing him was to give extraordinarily long explanations of every room and a detailed account of the scene I was attempting to create in the fairy knick-knack cabinet. For all those that are curious it was a multilevel view of a fairies home complete with an outdoor scene.
About the point where I was demonstrating how small the shower was by attempting to prop my leg on the door he stopped me.
“I’m really tired. I think I’m just going to go to sleep now.”
The moment was here. What was I going to do! I didn’t know if one of us was going to take the couch and the other the bed or whether it was rude to ask. “Where are you sleeping?” I timidly asked.
“The bed of course. Are you joining me?”
Full out panic mood was going on in my brain now and it was about this time that I realized I had not worn a bra with my dress. “But I don’t have a bra! What am I’m going to do in the morning!” I began to bawl. I was literally in tears at this point.
“It’s ok! You don’t need one. You’ll be fine. Just go find something to sleep in. It’s late.”
Tony went on into the guest room and proceeded to strip down to his boxer briefs while I desperately searched for something slightly attractive to wear. I settled on one of my 67-year-old aunt’s bright red moo-moo’s. In an attempt to make it sexier I prowled into the bedroom looking more like I had a gimp than a sultry side.
Needless to say this killed whatever kind of mood may have been happening. Because we were sharing the twin bed it was nearly impossible to fit without spooning. We talked for a while. Well mostly I talked. I jabbered on about the party, school, our religious views and anything else that could possibly pop into my head.
It was about this point that Tony just told me to shut up and kissed me. I was in heaven. For the first time all night my mind went blank and I just let body take control.
Everything was going swell. We were in full blown groping make out mode. It was about this time that we hit the speed bump.
“Do you have a condom?” Tony grunted.
“Uhhh… no.” I stammered out. Why in the hell would I be carrying a condom on me?! Did he notice the anything else that had happened that night? Surely he couldn’t think that I got laid a lot if that was my A-game.
“Oh. I don’t either,” said Tony.
So that’s where the night’s festivities came to a full halt. For a few moments we just laid there, still sort of awkwardly tangled in each other. We talked for a little bit longer then both drifted off into a restless sleep.
The next morning at the crack of dawn I heard the distinct rustle of clothes being pulled on. Maybe he’s going to get breakfast for us. That would be sweet right? But deep down I knew he was sneaking out. With my eye half cracked I watched, as he didn’t so much as glance back at my sleeping form.
The second the car pulled out of the driveway I jumped up to make emergency phone calls to my sister and best friend. This was not how I imagined I would be starting off my new year.
After numerous reassurances that he would definitely call later, he didn’t. Heartbroken once again I chalked it up to a drunken accident that I should just forget about.

Once again when I was on my way to completely forgetting about Tony he showed up in my life again to invite my girlfriends and I to the “rager” he was going to be throwing. While it wasn’t exactly a classy affair or the date I was looking for it was close enough.
When we arrived at the party Tony greeted already three sheets to the wind in that infamous camo cut-off. I spent the night mingling with virtually everyone but Tony but by the end of the party I somehow ended up telling my girlfriends to leave because I was going to spend the night.
The moment was finally here. Tony and I were going to consummate our love for each other and he was going to see that I was his soul mate once and for all.
We drunkenly made it to his bedroom and began to undress each other. The moment was perfect. Down on the bed things started to get hot and heavy and that’s where the real trouble started.
I am fully aware that some people are noisier than others during sex but typically the sounds that they make are bearable or even sexy sounding. The grunts that came from Tony were nothing short of animalistic.
Being unaware of your background I’m not sure if you’ve ever heard the sound of a bull elk grunting during mating season. If you haven’t go and look it up now and you will know what was happening in the bedroom that night.
Along with the din occurring right next to my ear I had the pleasure of being humped and unaware of if I was actually having intercourse yet or not. I tried to be as enthusiastic about the predicament as possible, oww’ing and ahh’ing when appropriate.
After about 20 minutes of this, whatever it was, Tony rolled over defeated.
“I’m sorry. I’m just to drunk,” he admitted.
“No! That was amazing!” I fibbed. “I couldn’t handle anymore.” That was partly true but not for the reason that he probably thought.
Tony, still completely in the nude set on the edge of his bed and put his fist to his chin. All I could think was how much he looked like The Thinker, a perfectly sculpted body that was of absolutely no use to any woman.
I tried to chalk to up to him being incredibly intoxicated and decided to not give up on him completely. Why I was living in this fantasy world of actually wanting that to be my relationship I do not know.
This unfortunately wasn’t the first time this weird almost sex thing happened. By the third time I was confused as to why Tony had done nothing more to advance our relationship outside of drunken, after party hook-ups.
It wasn’t like he had that much to offer in the bedroom and I was actually willing to put up with it because I liked his personality or at least the idea of his personality I had created in my head.
This all came to a head after our third dismal session in the sack. As we lied there completely unclothed, I prodded for answers. When Tony wasn’t really catching my drift I just came out and said it.
“The pancakes! The damn pancakes! How could you not have noticed that I was completely head over heels for you? You’re my soul mate asshole. I’ve never made anyone breakfast before.”
“Oh. Well they were good pancakes.”

In the end at least I learned how to make excellent pancakes and a very valuable lesson. If you want a boy to like you it’s better just to put it out there than do incredibly subtle gestures of kindness.
Oh and I also learned later on that sex usually doesn’t involve elk grunting noises.

I’m obviously in love with you pancakes:

2 cups of Bisquick
1 cup of milk
2 Eggs
¼ cup of sugar
Lots of love

Pour all ingredients into a large mixing bowl and stir until it is a creamy smooth mixture. You may also use a mixer on a low setting. Once batter is made pour in small amounts onto a heated frying pan. When the top begins to bubble flip over and cook until the sides no longer look doughy. Enjoy with someone you love.