Believe

I now vividly remember the leggy blond standing half naked in the hallway. Unlike most disheveled and disrobed women I happened upon in college, she wasn't crying or noticeably drunk, she was fully in control - except for the part about not being clothed and gawked at by five drunk guys in the hall.

How did she end up in a dorm hallway with little more than a bra and panties on? She had been forcefully kicked out by a friend* as No I don't need you anymore faded into the background. Why? His girlfriend was coming over - she also lived only a couple dorms & minutes away.
Y
ou see, the HIV was the noted Lothario on campus; the guy you don't invite to your wedding because he will try to sleep with your wife, then settle for your mom. Yet, notorious womanizer or not, the HIV had a girlfriend, whom he ostensibly cared enough for not to sleep with other women in her immediate vicinity.

You may wonder how I know the particulars of story, it is actually quite simple: two of my best friends lived next door to the HIV, and he was also one of our fraternity brothers. Like any two-faced bastard, he bragged about his accomplishment, unlike most heterosexual men however, he was a fan of Cher's magnum opus, Believe, and would play it anytime he had sex.

I spent many a night drinking with my two buddies next door, listening to Believe reverberating through the walls, punctuated by the occasional grunt during the chorus. As I just mentioned, the chorus was generally accompanied by a noise, not by screams of protest. Being gentlemen, my friends and are were honor bound to see what was going on, and that is when I gazed upon the leggy blond standing clad in little more than flimsy beachwear in the hall.

The events of that night weren't that out of the ordinary, in fact, I witnessed and participated in more interesting fare – some of which has been cataloged here; however, I never completely forgot that winter night during my freshman year, but I wonder if she did?

Skip seven years into the future. A young lady worked for a very prominent libertarian think tank, she even wrote several articles for them dealing with social security reform. While trying to track down a girl I used to stalk in college, I came upon one of her articles. It was extremely well written, reasoned and entertaining, especially considering the subject matter. Upon further research I discovered that the author went to college with me, she in fact was in my 2002 graduating class – I even tracked down a picture of her. She seemed familiar but I didn't know from where.

Over the next two years I was a semi-regular reader of her blog. I will be honest, while I generally dismiss libertarian thought as much too anarchistic, her clever and witty words actually changed my mind on several key issues like social security reform and how (not) to regulate identity theft. Then one day, while glancing at her picture in the corner of her blog's bio, I suffered a moment of crystalline clarity, I did remember her from college: She was the leggy blond in the hall.

Generally one shouldn't judge a person based on the ill-conceived romantic happenings of youth. But when it involves the HIV, well, that is a different story entirely. She might be smart, witty and quite the persuasive writer but she was also a tainted, oh-so-dirty whore.

*In consideration of his privacy and our close bond, I will refer to my "friend", David Ravi Mayer from Kula, Hawaii, as the HIV in this story.

Why the HIV? Because the HIV had sex with such a ridiculous amount of women, many of whom themselves were whores, that there is a high statistical probability he contracted one venereal disease or another (or all of them.) To be fair, however, I do not know this to be a fact (just an extreme likelihood) and would never suggest it as such. He is my good friend after all.