The 36-Year-Old Virgin


“So…You gonna try and tap it?”

She had one of those perma-smiles on her face as she walked into my office for the first time.  We met online and had chatted a few times before deciding to go out and tonight was the night.   As she sat down at my desk I had no clue what a memorable night it would turn out to be.  Who knew that I would soon receive a slightly racist nickname as well as the shock of my life!

She’s from The O.C. and asked if we could go to Downtown Disney to walk around, talk and grab some dinner.  “Absolutely,” I replied.  “Where would you like to meet?”  She asked if she could meet me at my office, which was halfway between her place and the Happiest Place on Earth.

We climbed into my Xterra and headed north on Harbor Blvd., bypassing the parking for Disneyland and California Adventure, and grabbed a decent spot near the entrance to Downtown Disney.  We walked a bit, bopping in and out of several stores and having nice first date conversation.  After a bit I asked her if she was hungry and she said that she was.  There were a myriad of restaurants there and she asked if I minded going to Tortilla Jo’s Cantina.

“Seriously?” I asked.  “Yeah.  Why?” She responded.  I was trying to find a nice way to say what I had to say, but there was no way I could, so I just blurted it out.  “Well, uh, you’re Mexican and as a gringo I can say with almost absolute certainty that this place will not have real Mexican food.”

“Oh bolillo,” (pronounced bo-LEE-yoh) she exclaimed.  “I’m here with you and I want you to go Mexican tonight!”  Wow!  My expectations for the night just went way, way up.  She was cute and I will admit that I had already wondered what it would be like to “go Mexican” with her, but as it was a first date and considering I am generally a pretty nice guy, I hadn’t put too much thought into it.  Until now.  For the record, “bolillo” means “white bread”.

We made our way to the hostess stand and were seated at a quiet table in the corner.  It was a chilly Southern California fall evening (probably all of 50) and she wanted to avoid the patio and stay inside where it was “toasty”.  We ordered margaritas and looked over the menu, trying to decide what looked good.  The more I thought about what she said earlier, the more I decided that she was looking good, but I was still playing it cool.  For now.

We ordered our food and munched on chips and salsa and got another pitcher of margaritas.  We started eating and I honestly have no clue what was said to get her on this next topic, because neither sex nor anything sexual was ever brought up in any of our conversations.   Right after I put a bite of chile relleno in my mouth, as if on cue, she very casually mentioned that she was a virgin.

I quickly swallowed my food, looked up and said, “No shit?”  She looked a bit surprised at my response.  I apologized and said, “Let me rephrase that.  Seriously?”  “Of course,” she said with a giggle.  “I told you that I was never married.”

Now, I’m certainly not a prude, but neither am I a man whore and I have to admit that I was more than a bit shocked.  I looked over at her with bewilderment and took a long drink of my margarita.  Actually, I killed the whole glass and was pouring another as I asked, “So.  How did you manage that?”

She went on to explain that she had never been married and had been in only one serious relationship and that she was Catholic, which meant that she knew it was a sin to have sexual relations outside of marriage.  I tried my best not to laugh out loud and as I tried to suppress my laughter she asked what was so funny.  I told her that she should not take what I was saying the wrong way, but I asked her if she knew the reputation that Catholic schoolgirls have.  She said that she had heard that some engage in “relations” before they’re married.

“Some engage in relations?”  I asked, completely surprised by her answer.  “I went to school right up the street from St. Josephs and we used to call them The Ho’s from St. Joes”.  Catholic girls are stereotypically easy and I ended up with the 36-Year-Old Virgin?  I know that I’m gonna sound like an ass when I say this, but the next thing that went through my mind was, “I guess I’m not going Mexican tonight.”

Somehow we managed to change topics and finish our meal.  After dinner we walked around a bit more, grabbed some coffee and dessert and found a bench with a good view of the Disneyland fireworks.  As we sat there she reached over and took my hand and as she did I looked at her and saw that perma-smile still on her face.  I smiled back and after the show was over we walked hand in hand back to my car.  I gave her a kiss on the cheek as we departed and we decided to go out again a couple nights later.

I watched her climb into her teal Mustang and as I drove home I had a hard time shaking my newfound knowledge.   I reasoned that I hadn’t actually planned on having sex with her on the first date, so it was really no loss at that point.   I got home, jumped online, checked a few e-mails and saw that my friend “The Kings Fan” was online, so I shared the story with him.  Almost immediately he responded in typical dude fashion:  “No shit?  So…you gonna try and tap it?”

J.R.

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5 Comments

Filed under Dating

5 responses to “The 36-Year-Old Virgin

  1. Sunny

    OK – Now we’re getting somewhere … first, I don’t know if I’m more upset that you refer to yourself as a Gringo or that this girl actually was holding out for marriage … I’m assuming that she was a virgin only in the most liberal sense of the term and that while maybe you didn’t “tap that” you were able to find “pleasure” in other ways… regardless, I have to admit that I 100% agree with your innate and completely accurate insight into the world of “Catholic School Girls” … we’re all a little sassy and in our own way make sure we take care of our guys 🙂 Take it for what it’s worth – I’m sure if at 36 she could have put on the plaid jumper & pig tails it would have been game on…. Happy New Year JR!!

  2. This is my first visit here and I get the 36-year-old virgin post??

    Run for your life. Seriously. The last thing any guy needs is a Stage 5 Clinger and if you do happen to tap it without putting a ring on her finger, she will haunt you to the end of her days. You’ll be her first time, and no one forgets their first time.

    I had a de-flowering streak in college and I basically needed an exorcism to get rid of those girls. Not because I’m some great Cassanova, but because there are attachments with that first time.

    Run gringo, Run!

  3. Sunny,

    thanks for the nice comments. I would be more upset that she was a virgin than the fact that I was called gringo. I grew up 2 hours from Mexico and believe me, Gringo was one of the nicer things I have been called in Spanish. As to the schoolgirl outfit, I suggested it once or twice (or was it three times?) and it never seemed to go over that well. Happy New year Sunny!

    Daddy,

    The great thing about this is that you can go back and read them all, so you’re not stuck with this and this alone. That date with the Virgin was a few years ago, so I can say that I did escape with my life. Congrats on your collegiate conquests. Is it safe to say that you got an A in anatomy 101?

  4. OM

    Or maybe it was one of those get-out-of-sex tricks women get taught by evil magazines?

  5. I will neither confirm nor deny that I found proof to her virginity at some point in the relationship.

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