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It was the summer between my sophomore and junior year.  I was living in the co-op and had my own room the whole summer.  To be cool, I bought a waterbed and set it up, taking over most of the room.  This was well before the waterbed world was sophisticated enough to include heaters so I had taken to sleeping in flannel pajamas.  If I didn’t, I’d wake up in the morning freezing to death no matter how hot it was outside. Unfortunately, as you saw earlier, it had not led up to any action so far.

I was working as a grunt on a research project at the hospital during the day and every night, I was waiting for something to happen.  Katlyn (mentioned above) and I had ended and there had been no one to take her place.  Nancy came wandering into the co-op one day, into my room, and said that she was staying next door, at a sorority and had heard music coming from our building and come over to investigate.  She was reasonably pretty, with blond hair, “healthy,” almost plump, and seemed very friendly.  Since the drinking age at Michigan at the time was 18, not an evening or weekend went by where a party didn’t start with beer or Boone’s Farm.  So I invited a few people in and a party started and Nancy stayed.  After several hours, I was sitting on the regular bed, not the waterbed, with her and everyone else had gone.  She just sat there and we made small talk for a while. Since I had gotten ready for bed before she showed up and was still wearing my flannel pajamas, she remarked that she thought my pajamas were cute.

I suddenly had a flash.  This girl seems interested in me.  She doesn’t know me.  I could ask her to have sex with me and if she said no, no harm done.  I was already a bit worried about my sexuality since I was 18 and still a virgin so it seemed like a no-risk opportunity.  I turned to her and said, “Do you want to make love with me?”  She looked at me and said, “I’ve never been asked that way before but sure.”  Her smile dazzled me and I felt woozy.  I was in unknown territory at this point.  I knew enough to get up and close the door but that was about it.  I came back and told her I had never done it before and wasn’t exactly sure what to do.  She said, “I’ll show you” and took my hand and put it on her breast.  She pulled me close and kissed me.  I’m not sure if it was the Boone’s Farm or the moment but I don’t remember exactly what happened after that.  I remember moving to the waterbed.  I remember our clothes coming off.  I remember squeezing her now-naked breast and marveling at how firm it felt.  I remember that we had sex and her telling me how much fun it was on a waterbed.  I don’t know if she had an orgasm.  I don’t even remember if it was something that I was even concerned about.  This was 1971 and while girls got pregnant and there was always a risk of venereal disease, it was way before protection was an important part of the process.

Nancy slept with me that night and we had sex again in the morning.  The victory was bittersweet, though.  I was supposed to go home for a week and in theory, I was going to leave that day.  I really wanted to stay and keep doing it with her but I had no choice, I had to kick her out.  I asked her if she was going to be around the following week.  She said she didn’t know but if she was around, she’d hook up with me.  I took my suitcase, locked my room and left but as I was leaving, Stuart Ross cornered me and asked me if he could have the key to my room.  When I asked him what for, he said that I had the only waterbed in the co-op and he thought he might be able to score with Nancy and if so, he wanted to use it.  After all, he was going to be a doctor and that would be enough to get her in bed.  I said OK and left him my key.

When I got back from my trip home, I couldn’t find Stuart but I found the person who was holding my key.  Stuart had gone home to New Jersey for the rest of the summer.  As I opened the door to my room and looked around, something looked different.  I noticed that my stereo was gone and also, my checkbook was sitting out on my desk.  I always left my checkbook in my top drawer, not sitting out.  I looked at the top check and there were two missing numbers.  It took a little while to sink in but I realized eventually I had been robbed.  I later learned that Nancy made out the checks to herself, signed my name and then cashed them at my bank.  Since she had proper ID and the account was located in that bank, they had no choice but to cash the checks.  It was only for $150 but still, the banks shouldn’t have cashed the checks without checking my signature.  Ultimately, they agreed and I got the cash back.  I never got the stereo back.  It wasn’t that great of a one but still, what a pain in the butt.

In the ensuing weeks, I found out that when Stuart was getting ready to leave, Nancy asked him for the key to my room and he complied.  When she left, she had helped herself to my stereo and my checks.  In the fall, when I confronted Stuart about it, he claimed it wasn’t his fault, that she was my girlfriend.  To this day, I still hold it against him.  It wasn’t his room to loan out and I had entrusted the key to him not her and therefore it was his responsibility.

While Nancy took my virginity, my stereo and my money, she did leave me something.  After I got back from home, over the next few days my crotch started itching and itching and one day, I took a close look.  There were all these white bumps and one of them was moving!!!!  So Nancy had left me with a nice case of the crabs!  I immediately got my razor and shaved off all the hair.  I bought some Rid and it worked and that’s all I have to say about it.

About two months into the next term, I got a phone call from someone claiming to be a private investigator.  He represented the family of one Deborah Dombrowski and told me that she had been held in a mental institution in Ohio and had escaped the past summer.  They had tracked her as far as Michigan and my name came up.  We figured out that she had stolen the real Nancy Grey’s wallet (whoever that was) and was using it as her identity when I met her.  I told him everything I knew which wasn’t much and he thanked me.  That was the last I ever heard of her.

It figures: at a time when I was questioning whether any girl would ever find me attractive enough to have sex, it would end up having to be someone who was an escapee from the loony bin.  Of course, this did nothing to boost my self-esteem.  The only thing it did was take away the stigma of being a virgin any more.  Sadly, as it turns out, to some degree, I learned that a woman has to be mental to have sex with me but more on that later.