She Blinded Me With Science

I heard a song on my way to work this morning that made me absolutely giddy (like a little schoolgirl).

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for Great Moments in John's Sexual History, Volume II, brought to you today by Thomas Dolby.

I lived in Oxford, England for a few months in 1999. I lost over 30 pounds because I ran out of money and had to give up eating. I was a Sex God.

On a trip to Brighton, I met a girl. A ton of my friends and I were at a club, she was at a club with her friends, we were both very drunk, we danced a little bit, we kissed at the club, we exchanged numbers. I know - I a) danced b) at a club and c) kissed a girl. You might need someone to help you off the floor.

But this was back in the old days and in Europe. Once upon a time, many moons ago, Uncle John was not a eunuch, but rather a Sexual Force, a Monsoon of Lust, a True Sensual Being. Many moons ago. Many. It was, probably, the best time of my life.

I returned to Oxford and called the girl, an American studying abroad in Brighton, a train ride away. We talked and made plans for me to come visit her the following weekend. Brighton is a train ride, not a subway ride away. If I recall correctly, it takes a little over an hour to get there. So if I was coming there, I had to stay over. Sweet.

The problem was that we didn’t really know each other aside from a make out session and a few phone calls. However, this wouldn’t be too much of a problem, since I was getting into Brighton early evening and we’d go from the station to her place just so I could drop off my bag and then we’d immediately head out. Once we started drinking, everything would be fine.

The problem was that she wasn’t ready, so when we got back to her place, I had to wait for her. And wait. And wait some more. This angered me, but it more or less made things very awkward. Here I am, sitting in this girl’s dorm room who I don’t really know, waiting for her to get ready, saying things like, "So…um…how about America, huh? I mean, it’s cool that we’re both American." and "So do you like college or do you not like it?"

When we finally got to the club where her friends were, there was a HUGE line. Huge. Not only that, but the club was right off the beach. I didn’t wear a jacket, fearing that I’d lose it at this strange club in a strange city. I nearly froze as the February wind blew off the beach.

Now we were in full awkward mode. She could see the displeasure on my face (and perhaps the hypothermia) and kept apologizing. I thought it was sweet of her to be so concerned, but I was more concerned with the whole freezing to death and being stone cold sober things I had going on. The longer we waited, the more I shut down. It was going very badly.

FINALLY, we got into the club. But just as things seemed to be turning around, she couldn’t find her friends. They had all left because they thought she wasn’t coming. They were at another club and wanted us to come.

So now, here we were, two strangers who made out only once before, completely sober, and alone in this weird club. My thoughts at this time ranged from "What the fuck?" to "You’ve got to be fucking kidding me."

While thinking about what to do, she said, "Well, at least let me buy you a drink." I protested but she insisted. I found a little table to stand at off to the side, and she came back with two tequila shots and two Rolling Rocks. At this point, everything changed.

Apparently, the club was having a special: 99p tequila shots and Rolling Rocks (not positive it was Rolling Rocks, but I’m 90% sure). 99p was the equivalent of about $1.60. Incredibly cheap.

So this girl (we’ll call her Emma, after my favorite Spice Girl) and I stood at this little table for the next 90 minutes pounding tequila shots and Rolling Rocks. It was impressive to say the least: both of us desperately trying to drown our awkwardness in cheap booze, just so we could do something stupid. A beautiful moment, really.

By shot three, the awkwardness was gone. By shot five, we were touchy-feely. By shot seven, we were bombed and dancing, two strangers alone in a random club.

I don’t remember how the dancing started, but I remember that Emma danced so well and so hotly that I stood there (or rather, danced there), thinking to myself, "This woman is going to be my wife. I don’t care what I have to do to make this happen. We are going to get married and she is going to dance up on me like this every day for the rest of my life. And it will be good." I also remember wondering how she knew how to do this stuff, because she was kind of a hippie. Looking at her, you’d never think, "I bet that girl could dance like a stripper." But boy oh boy, could she ever. To this day, it was one of the craziest/sensualist/most drunken glorious moments of my life.

Now, friends or people who know me are probably reading this in horror right now. I am a big, fat, hairy white guy. Meaning: I am not a club guy. I am not a dancing guy. But here I was, in this club, dancing and making out with this girl in front of everyone. Had I been even the least bit sober, I might have stopped, because I’m pretty sure we were the couple at the club that people scream "Get a room!" about. But with all that tequila and Rolling Rock in my belly, the only thing that could have stopped me from dancing with that girl was a rhino charge. And I’m not even sure about that.

We eventually went back to her place and yada yada yada. We parted ways the next morning and it was normal. We talked over the next few days and she came to visit me in Oxford.

This time, there was nothing. No spark. No chemistry. No nothing. She was cool and sweet and fun, but both of us were off, maybe. And no insane-o drunken-dance-make out sessions.

A week or two later I went back to visit her and again, nothing. We weren’t desperate enough to try to recreate that drunken night of boozing, but we still went out, drank, had fun. But neither of us were feeling it.

After that, the phone calls came less frequently and we never made plans to see each other again. Over and done, quietly, mutually, with dignity.

What does "She Blinded Me With Science" have to do with this? On the night of the drunken dance party, while we were still at the table, working our way to un-awkwardness, this song came on at the club. I started doing impression of the old guy who speaks over the song and says things like, "She blinded me - with science!" and "Good heavens, Ms. Sakamoto - you’re beautiful!"

Seeing her laughing, and getting drunk and full of gusto, I went off, freestyling lines in a fake heavy erudite British accent, like, "Can you imagine? Me! I’m a scientist! And she blinded me!" This degenerated into, "I can’t see anything! Because of all this science! I can’t believe it!" Then she started joining in, "I previously had perfect vision, now I have trouble recognizing basic shapes! It’s nearly unfathomable!" I countered with, "Ms. Sakamoto - I always knew that your had a nice heinie, but good heavens! Your bust! It’s beautiful!"

Soon after, we were practically having sex on the dance floor. And not only that, this joke has lived on for years, and my old roommate Rob and I used it all the time, randomly screaming at bars, "SCIENCE!" A few years ago, a friend told me that Horatio Sanz did a skit on SNL in which he used a joke similar to this. I haven’t seen it and I hope I don’t. Because I will sue the fuck out of Horatio Sanz, even though I like him.

So long story not very short, whenever I hear this song, it give me a double whammy of happiness. Not only do I get to remember a very special (read: drunken, lusty) night, but I also smile because of the awesome "SCIENCE!" joke. And, oh yeah, it’s a good song.

[Note: I realize that this is a level of personal detail that I don’t normally get into. But I do so here because I have not had any contact with this girl in over seven years (nor do I want to). I don’t have any connection to her, either (mutual friends, same school, etc). I highly doubt she remembers me at all, and if she does, I’m sure it’s as some random guy she made out with a couple of times. I’m very limited about what I can write on here involving other people, but this one is ok. Just trust me on this.]