Sassy’s Past Part 1: The Kissers
     Sassy’s Past Part 2: Pop Goes My Cherry
     Sassy’s Past Part 3: The Trio

In the summer of 1979, I worked at a big hotel.  There were a lot of men who lived there for a couple of months in the midst of being transferred for their jobs with big corporations.  Martin was one of them, about five years older than me, lonely, knew no one in town.  He hung out in the evenings chatting with my co-workers.  He followed me on my dinner breaks to chat in the restaurant next door.

I felt sorry for him and invited him home for a July 4^th  barbecue at my house.  So our first “date” was with my entire family including my grandfather!  He sat down in the living room, and our kittens, who usually hid under the couch, came out, crawled up his legs and sat on his lap.  I thought they were a good judge of character!  I walked him to his car.  He thanked me and shook my hand.  Then he grabbed me.  And kissed me.  And groped me.  He was very forceful.  I told him I wasn’t interested.

But he kept hanging out at the hotel.  And trying to get me to go to his room.  Nothing doing.  That would get me fired!  Then he got transferred about 4 hours away.  He called me every night.  He begged me to come see him.  I’m an idiot.  I went.  He locked me in his hotel room for the weekend and fucked me until I was so sore I couldn’t stand up.  I resolved never to see him again.  I avoided him at the hotel, stopped going to dinner.  My job ended and I thought I’d shed him.

When I went south to visit relatives at the end of the summer, he started calling there.  He was so sweet.  I told him he’d hurt me physically, and he was surprised and chagrinned and sorry.  He promised to be very gentle from then on.  And to give me time.  He was a man of his word.  He drove down to see me!  And convinced my parents to let him drive me home.  He took me to meet his grandparents on the way home, left me alone in the guest bedroom.  But I mostly resolved to go back to college and ditch him.

When I left, he kept hanging out with my family.  They loved him and asked him to move in with them!  So when I went home, there he was.  Being kind to me.  Going trick-or-treating with my little sister.   I gave in and loved him, too.  He moved away, and I visited him now and then at his new place in another state.  

We dated for three years while I finished college.  I went to the Midwest to meet his family.  I went to his place a lot of weekends.  He came to see me at college.  When I graduated from college, he was there, part of the family.  I began to think we’d get married.  

I moved to Boston.  He visited me there.  He decided to quit his job and go back to school full-time to get his masters.  I visited him there once and had a lovely time.  He called me when I got home to tell me he had met the woman he wanted to marry.  I never saw him again.  I mailed his stuff to him.  He didn’t send me mine.  * sigh *  

The odd thing was, I didn’t miss him.  I missed having a boyfriend.  But not him.  Made me wonder about myself.

He’s on Facebook, with just enough info public that I know he’s alive and well and living his dream.   So I have no urge to contact him.  

Little did I know I would be alone for 12 years after that.  

Stay tuned for Sassy’s Past Part 5: Same Time, Next Year

     Sassy’s Past Part 1: The Kissers
     Sassy’s Past Part 2: Pop Goes My Cherry
     Sassy’s Past Part 3: The Trio

In the summer of 1979, I worked at a big hotel.  There were a lot of men who lived there for a couple of months in the midst of being transferred for their jobs with big corporations.  Martin was one of them, about five years older than me, lonely, knew no one in town.  He hung out in the evenings chatting with my co-workers.  He followed me on my dinner breaks to chat in the restaurant next door.

I felt sorry for him and invited him home for a July 4^th  barbecue at my house.  So our first “date” was with my entire family including my grandfather!  He sat down in the living room, and our kittens, who usually hid under the couch, came out, crawled up his legs and sat on his lap.  I thought they were a good judge of character!  I walked him to his car.  He thanked me and shook my hand.  Then he grabbed me.  And kissed me.  And groped me.  He was very forceful.  I told him I wasn’t interested.

But he kept hanging out at the hotel.  And trying to get me to go to his room.  Nothing doing.  That would get me fired!  Then he got transferred about 4 hours away.  He called me every night.  He begged me to come see him.  I’m an idiot.  I went.  He locked me in his hotel room for the weekend and fucked me until I was so sore I couldn’t stand up.  I resolved never to see him again.  I avoided him at the hotel, stopped going to dinner.  My job ended and I thought I’d shed him.

When I went south to visit relatives at the end of the summer, he started calling there.  He was so sweet.  I told him he’d hurt me physically, and he was surprised and chagrinned and sorry.  He promised to be very gentle from then on.  And to give me time.  He was a man of his word.  He drove down to see me!  And convinced my parents to let him drive me home.  He took me to meet his grandparents on the way home, left me alone in the guest bedroom.  But I mostly resolved to go back to college and ditch him.

When I left, he kept hanging out with my family.  They loved him and asked him to move in with them!  So when I went home, there he was.  Being kind to me.  Going trick-or-treating with my little sister.   I gave in and loved him, too.  He moved away, and I visited him now and then at his new place in another state.  

We dated for three years while I finished college.  I went to the Midwest to meet his family.  I went to his place a lot of weekends.  He came to see me at college.  When I graduated from college, he was there, part of the family.  I began to think we’d get married.  

I moved to Boston.  He visited me there.  He decided to quit his job and go back to school full-time to get his masters.  I visited him there once and had a lovely time.  He called me when I got home to tell me he had met the woman he wanted to marry.  I never saw him again.  I mailed his stuff to him.  He didn’t send me mine.  * sigh *  

The odd thing was, I didn’t miss him.  I missed having a boyfriend.  But not him.  Made me wonder about myself.

He’s on Facebook, with just enough info public that I know he’s alive and well and living his dream.   So I have no urge to contact him.  

Little did I know I would be alone for 12 years after that.  

Stay tuned for Sassy’s Past Part 5: Same Time, Next Year