The Fleckeri Effect

Chironex Fleckeri, commonly known as the sea wasp or box jellyfish, is a rare species of jellyfish found in a small section of the world's oceans and is considered by experts to be the most poisonous creature on Earth. The venom found in the tentacles of just one box jellyfish are thousands of times more lethal than a cobra or tarantula and have enough toxins to kill 60 humans. There are a large concentration of attacks in Australian waters and one clever Aussie lifeguard noted that attacks occurred almost exclusively on the 8th and 9th days after a spring full moon. Marine biologists used this information and determined that a combination of tides and moon phase were just right several days after the full moon to draw the box jellyfish from the depths of the sea towards shore to mate. Weak from sex the male and female fleckeri are then carried to the beach by the waxing tide where they die. It is during this phase of the box jellyfish's short life cycle that most humans are stung.

Those of you still reading are undoubtedly wondering what the holy hell this has to do with anything. The one hundred and seventy word bio lesson above is an example of how sometimes the stars and planets align and for reasons we can't or don't want to explain shit happens. Birds fly south for the winter, salmon swim upstream, box jellyfish fuck after a full moon, and yes, even a blind hog stumbles across and acorn now and again. Factors generally conspire to kick us in the ass, but every once in a while they cut us a break and actually help us. This is the case on Saturday night when I was out with Andy and two girls fell into our laps.

Andy and I had plans to meet out Saturday night, but I went out Friday and got pretty banged up so my motivation was almost nill. He tried to coerce me to meet him out in some shithole section of Maryland but I wasn't having it. We agreed to meet up in Dupont at 10pm, which was about an hour from then.

I was committed to going out but my heart still wasn't in it. I took a shower and got in my car to drive to Union Station to catch the Metro. Two blocks from my house I reached into my pocket for my phone and it wasn't there, I had left it on my kitchen counter. FUCK!. I turned around, retrieved my phone and was just about at Union Station again when I caught a whiff of BO. I thought "why do I smell bad?", then it occurred to me that in my haste to leave the house I forgot to put on deodorant. FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! I yanked the wheel around and headed home.

At this point it was about 90-10 that I was going home and staying there. I parked my car in the driveway and pondered the options. I was officially late, in a bad mood, I was sweating like James Gandolfini and smelled like BO. I walked inside, put on deodorant and a squirt of cologne then stood in my foyer like a dope for a second before yelling "FUCKITI"LLGO!!!!!" I grabbed a helmet and the Harley keys and left. It was 9:56pm.

I had recommended meeting up at The Big Hunt but in my mind I was really thinking Lucky Bar. They are both shithole dives so I understand how I confused the two. When I pulled up in front of Lucky Bar I realized A) This wasn't the bar I meant and B) I didn't actually know where The Big Hunt was. After getting directions from two teenage girls in exceedingly short skirts I arrived at The Big Hunt. I parked in front and headed for the door just as Andy rounded the corner. The timing was perfect. We talked for a second then I turned and pushed the front door to enter the bar. The door was "stuck" and by stuck I mean it opened outward, not in. I pushed against the door for a few seconds before I realized what was up, and by then there were two girls behind me laughing a little. I took a step back, grabbed the handle, opened the door for the girls and said "This is one of those fancy doors you pull to open" and let them in.

Andy and I ordered drinks then went up to the deck on the roof. Five minutes later the two girls from the front door arrived and sat at a picnic table behind us. There was room at the girls' table so Andy and I sat and joined them. We learned that one girl had just moved here from North Carolina and the other was visiting from Wilmington for the weekend.

The brunette lived in College Park. She was 26, about 5'5", with a really nice body. She was outgoing and funny but she wasn't really my type in the looks department. The blond was the one that lived in Wilmington. The "tale of the tape" was almost identical as the brunette except that her chest was a little bigger, her face a little prettier, but she was quiet bordering on shy. Let's keep it simple and go with Brunette and Blond for names. Oh, and how could I forget...they were both marine biologists. Coincidence? I don't think so. I recently (three hours before) became an expert on box jellyfish and thus had lots to talk about. Plus, I recently read a book called Bottom Feeder about sustainable fishing, so I blew their minds a couple of times with ridiculous factoids about oyster beds and salinity levels in brackish water.

Brunette wanted to know what other bars in the area were fun, so Andy, in an uncharacteristically bold move offered our services as personal bar escorts for the evening. After two more drinks the girls agreed. Our next stop was Cafe Citron where we were the only non-Latinos in the whole bar. We stayed for one beer then decided to head to the polar opposite end of the ethnic spectrum: Russia House. These two bars are about ten blocks from each other. Andy, for some reason, insisted it was not walkable and hailed us a cab. About four seconds and $8 later we arrived at Russia House.

As is usually the case at this bar the girls went from semi-tipsy to totally hammered after one giant vodka cocktail.

It is here that I need to take a time-out and explain the crux facing Andy and I. At this point we are both struggling with the dilemma of "who takes which girl". Neither girl is giving us any direction one way or the other. They are both being equally friendly and flirty to each of us. Both girls were touching my arm and back when we talked, leaning into me a little, they weren't helping at all. I can't say for sure what was going through Andy's mind, but I was trying to figure out which girl was single and willing to sleep with me that night. There were very important decisions to be made in the next hour or so, decisions that would have a major impact on the course my evening.

To give our chances a slight nudge in the right direction I blurted out "Saint Ex" like some sort of bar-tourette-syndrome-savant. Andy was like "OoooKaaay, do you girls want to go to a bar called Saint Ex?" I continued "They play 80's glam rock in the basement. It's so hot you'll sweat through all your clothes, but it's the best bar in DC". I really wasn't that drunk, I only had a few drinks. NN The Idiot Boy had just jumped in there for a second to throw in his two cents, then I returned.

The girls agreed so we headed outside to catch a cab. By now it was after 1am and we knew that the girls had taken the Metro from College Park. As we walked out behind the girls Andy turned to me and quietly said "We just gotta make it to 2:01am", which was when the Metro stopped running.

Saint Ex was packed. We grabbed four beers then went downstairs where it must have been 103 degrees and 98% humidity. I sweat through my shirt before I reached the bottom step. Bon Jovi Living on a prayer was blaring from the speakers while guys faked guitar solos. I don't know what it is about that song but it turns guys into retards and girls into sex junkies. I handed Brunette a beer and she thanked me by jamming her tongue down my throat. The choice is made! (says Gozar)

At 2:15am we were kicked out of the bar and hailed a cab to my house for "drinks and a dip in the hot tub". We had a couple of beers each on my back deck before Brunette and I headed out to the tub. I stripped and jumped into the tub. In one fluid motion Brunette pulled her sun dress over her head and revealed that she had nothing underneath it. Andy and Blond said they would be right down but we never saw them again.

After the tub we went to my room where we had sweaty, no holds barred, rough sex before passing out in a tangle of sheets and limbs. I woke up in the middle of the night having sex again. I don't know if I initiated it or she did. All I recell is her riding on top of me vigorously rubbing her clit then screaming "I'm coming!". I also vaguely recall ripping a condom off and coming in her mouth. All of these images, by the way, are mental versions of underdeveloped Polaroid pictures. Yellow-blue-red streaks of motionless color and three second sound bites.

In the morning I woke up early and found Andy sleeping on a chair in my living room and Blond in the fetal position on the couch. We were all still a little tipsy. Eventually everyone left and I crashed on the couch for most of the day. Later that night I went outside and found a watch, a necklace and a bunch of silver earrings and bracelets on a table next to the hot tub. Brunette had left behind a few trinkets like Madonna.