thought that was pretty funny. That is the whole true story, exactly as I remember it.
In the final analysis, I have almost nothing bad to say about Fenwick. Yes, they fired me, but I can understand their position: I acted like a drunk retard and they couldn't tolerate my potential liability. What could I expect them to do? Pat me on the back and get me a hooker and some beer? That would be pretty cool, though. Seriously, I hold no ill will towards them. I probably would have done the same thing had I been in their position, and some jerk-off had come in acting like me. I often get asked if I regret what I did. I'm never exactly sure how to answer that; I mean, yes I would have liked to have kept making $2400 a week for the summer, but in the end, it was probably the best thing for me. I hated being a lawyer, but the money was so good, I don't know if I would have ultimately had the courage to quit on my own. I would Have just languished in a job I hated, doing just enough to get by, and would become bitter and disillusioned, like almost every lawyer I know. So instead I did the immature thing and forced the issue, leaving the decision up to Fenwick, and they made it for me. Oh well ... what can you do?
QUITE THE VACATIO N
Occurred-May 2000 Written-March 2005
I don't know exactly how many girls I've slept with, but it's well into the triple digits. You start to forget a few last names somewhere in the 30s, some first names around the 60s, and entire girls altogether somewhere around the 90s, but no matter how much or how many you fuck, some are just unforgettable.
This particular girl, "Candy," I met while working in Cancun. I was so busy fucking her sorority sisters, I didn't hit on her until the day before she left, but she was having none of me. I figured that she just respected herself and didn't want to fuck someone like me, so I was kinda surprised when she asked for my number the day she left. I gave it to her and didn't think twice about it, until two months later when Candy called and wanted to come visit.
By that time I had kinda forgotten what she looked like, so I was stoked when I picked her up at the airport and she was even hotter than I remembered. Short and Vietnamese but with just enough of the French rapist heritage coursing through her veins that she had that hybrid-vigor hotness that you really only see in mixed races.
I was 24 at the time and still didn't know as much as I thought that I did, so when on the ride back to my place she was very formal and quiet, I didn't understand what was going on. Why would this girl call me to come visit, knowing what I am like, and not be more into me? One of my roommates was home when we got to my place, so we had a few beers in the living room and talked. Well, my roommate and I talked, and she just sat there and acted obsequious. Every time I tried to involve her in the conversation, she would briefly answer and then go back to her beer. I've seen kidnapping victims be more social with their captors.
Then my roommate left for the gym. As soon as the door closed behind him, I learned a very important lesson: sometimes the quietest and meekest in public are the loudest and wildest in private. I mean, I knew this about women in an intellectual way, but the reality of this proverb never hit home with me until I found myself being nearly sexually assaulted by this girl who had said no more than 10 words over the past hour.
Right after the front door clicked shut, she calmly put her beer down and then pounced on me like a jaguar. Since I have never had an Asian projectile fired at me, I wasn't sure what to do. She was literally jumping me, but I was so shocked and totally taken by surprise that I put my hands up and kinda hit her. Right in the face. I didn't mean to, but for a split second I thought she was trying to kill me. What would you think if some quiet Asian girl unexpectedly jumped at you? She was fine, and I tried to apologize but couldn't talk because
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