True Julie stories (part 1 of 5)

In highschool I knew a girl named Julie. While it’s a pretty common name in English, not many Israeli girls are named Julie. She was the only one I’d ever heard of. When spoken in a Hebrew jaw with a Hebrew tongue and Hebrew lips, the name Julie sounds dirty and slutty, conjuring up an image of an aging prostitute.

She was big and had motherly breasts. She cut her hair short and spoke aggressively. She would laugh at my jokes in an involuntary manner, and when it was evident that she was fighting it and wishing she wasn’t laughing was when I’d gain the most pleasure out of it. She was by no means pretty and I was not attracted to her, but I was attracted to the idea of her. I was attracted to the idea that she was just ugly enough and just insecure enough to like me.

I flirted with her in classes but that was as far as I could take it under the glaring eyes of all of my highschool friends, who were my entire world at the time. We rarely spoke outside of school and never spent time together, not even once. After graduating she disappeared from my life, but I still thought about her every once in a while, especially when I was feeling lonely or horny.

A few months into the army I was feeling both lonely and horny so strongly I thought I would break. An army friend of mine who came from the north of Israel had an apartment near Tel-Aviv that the army rented for him. On most weekends he’d drive back up north and the place would stay empty. He told me, I can give you the keys and you can have my place any weekend you want, you know, if you need a place for... you know. I didn’t need a place, what I needed was to need a place.

So I called Julie. We hadn’t spoken in months, and I had never been in the habit of calling her in the first place. When I called her she was crying. At first I thought it was just the surprise in her voice coupled with a cold. After a couple of sentences it became clear, she was sniffling and stifling back tears. She cried about her life for five minutes, she hated the army and she hated her body and she hated the future and she hated the present. Her existence was pointless, she cried shamelessly. I felt as lonely as ever, and no longer horny at all.

After the wave of tears subsided she sniffled again and said “What made you call me all of a sudden? Did you want something?”
“Yeah,” I said, and even though I was sick to my stomach, I dove in. “Look, I’ve got this army buddy.”
“What?” She said. “Haven’t you been listening to me at all?”
“Just listen, stop crying.” I said. “He lives up north but he’s got an apartment around here and he’ll give me the keys any time I want over the weekends. So if you want to come over this weekend, you and I can, you know… ‘party’.” I especially regretted the word “party” once it had escaped my lips. I didn’t know myself.
She was silent and then she spoke. “What do you mean by ‘party’?” She asked. At least she’d stopped crying.
“You know, we’ll watch a movie, drink some wine, I’ll go down on you, you’ll go down on me.” Listening to myself talk was like watching a car crash.
“I don’t think so.” She said.
“Why not?”
“Because. I’m not like that.”
“What’s ‘like that’? If that made you ‘like that’ it would make me ‘like that’ too, wouldn’t it? I’m not talking intercourse here, just oral sex, you can still save yourself if that’s what you want to do.”
“That’s too much for me. Putting it in my mouth… it could only be someone I really love.”
“You really think so?” I asked. It was truly awful.
“Yes.”
“And you really think I have an army buddy who has an apartment I can use on the weekends?” She said nothing and then smiled involuntarily; I could hear it over the phone. “No way.” She said in an angry grin.
“Well, it got you to stop crying, didn’t it?” I tried to grin as well. I gritted my teeth.
“You bastard!” She laughed. “Party? Party?!? Oh my god, you bastard, I can’t believe you got me like that! Oh my god I can’t believe I fell for that!” She laughed and laughed, while I felt like vomiting.
“Hold on,” She said. “My mother wants to talk to you.” She put her mother on the line. Her mother said to me “I don’t know what you just said to her but I want to thank you. She’s been crying all day and no one has been able to console her, and now you’ve got her laughing. You’re a magician. Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome.” I said.

Julie laughed and smiled and felt better. I felt worse than I had in years.