Drumroll, Please

Drumroll, Please

By Muriel Palanca

I'm writing this because I want to remember and save it for a rainy day. There are only a handful of moments in my life I consider perfect. This is one of them.

I had sex on a beach for the first time.

If you’re gonna do it, you better do it right, and he did me so damn right. But let me set the scene…

I won’t say the town name but it’s a cool, quiet place a couple km off the gold coast and not as touristy. This hostel had an oven AND a freezer…so I baked some brown sugar carrots and bought a four-pack of ice cream. I instantly felt welcome by a lady at the bus stop who told me about the free shuttle service to the hostel and after meeting the people who lived there over the course of a few hours, I felt at home. And that’s rare to find, especially at a hostel.

I first see him peeling potatoes for family dinner. Tall with lean muscle and focused on his work. He looks like the better part of my bad decisions and the kind of trouble I’d like to get into. He’s eye candy with flavors of smolder that could ruin my dinner. I go to the dining room to eat.

The night I arrive is family dinner and let me tell you, this is one of a handful of moments when I felt the deepest of regrets. The man in charge of this feast, called “Chef”, was charging $9 for a chicken schnitzel dinner a few hours prior, and instead, I bought groceries and planned on having store-bought cannelloni because I thought it would be more cost effective.

To be fair, I was the new kid on the block and had no idea this man is in fact a legend in the kitchen. Also, my idea of “family dinner” from my old hostel is a giant pot of some sort of stew and a line of fifty starving backpackers scrambling for forks and reenacting our version of “Hunger Games”.

When I see what this man created, I take a picture so I would never forget what “regret” feels like. Dear lord this shit looked INCREDIBLE. And here I am with the most disappointing gruel in comparison. Thankfully, some of my new friends give me huge helpings of their leftovers…it did not go unappreciated.

After the meal, I go into the kitchen and notice there are leftover mashed potatoes with gravy. Mr. Potato Peeler is still there, and I ask him if I can have some. He says I can take the lot and we have a conversation while I warm up some mash.

It’s an easy conversation where we’re getting to know each other and we’re both mutually interested, it’s not just small talk. We end up talking at the table and then go to the beach with the group. This beach at night is gorgeous, big and empty in the best way.

We talk for a few hours. He’s German/ Itallian but grew up in Brazil. Blonde, blue/grey eyes with a hint of seawater green, and my gosh the cutest smile…the kind where his eyes crinkle at the corners and he looks like a little boy being let out of school. He’s my age and he wants to work in IT. We talk about artificial intelligence, love/sex with robots and a little bit of everything else. I learn to spell his last name which sounds like an expletive and has too many unpronounced consonants.

I show him how to do a basic BJJ move (trap and roll) and it’s at this point when he’s mounting me where I realize my bladder is going to burst. I run to the ocean a few mins later, where I greatly misjudge how far I am from the tide and end up with wet pants. Oh well…

A while after my return, the rest of the group slowly departs and it’s just him and me. At one point, he lays down on the sand and tells me his hands are cold. I offer him my neck for warmth and straddle him so it’s easier for him to reach. I’m considerate like that.

His hands haven’t warmed up enough so I place them on my stomach where it’s warmer…he then rises up and kisses me.

The kissing chemistry is GOLDEN. Soft but firm lips, just enough tongue, forward and receding pressure, hands feeling, holding, gripping and caressing. Yes…a thousand times…yes.

We end up talking, kissing and flirting a little while longer…then decide to go home because it’s late and chilly.

The next day, I go to a morning yoga class, bake carrots, read at the beach with friends and he goes about his day. Later that afternoon, I find him in the kitchen mopping the floor.

Me: Hey…ummm…

Him: *stops mopping and patiently stares at me while I find the words*

Me: So…I’m leaving tomorrow.. and you’re gonna do your thing and I’m gonna do my thing…but I was wondering, if you’d like to be with me to tonight? *I think I mumble the last part*

Him: …what?

Me: *look him in the eyes* Will you be with me tonight?

Him: *smiles* Yes.

Later that evening, we go to karaoke with friends and leave early to take a 45 min walk home. I also find $5 on the gound- the universe is going all out for me tonight but I pay it forward. (The next day, I wake up to a girl in my dorm who I befriended. She went on a date with a guy she was excited about, but they had terrible sex and he was an asshole before that. I give her the $5 I found as a consolation prize.)

At some point during the evening, I tell him I’ve never had sex on a beach but would like to with him. We go to a section of the beach with some shadow, glow from the streetlamps and no one else around.

I need to do this man justice and talk about how incredibly gorgeous he is, inside and out: He takes care of everything, including me.

He provides an air mattress, a blanket and a towel. He blows up the air mattress BY HIMSELF without a pump. He has the condoms. Him without a shirt on…his abs can grate cheese. His arms could easily lift me…and the weight of the world off my shoulders. And he does…on both counts. I bring a bottle of warm water, chocolate biscuits and my special vape.

We get cozy on the mattress, which is a twin size and we’re both tall people, but we make it work.

I turn to him and there’s a shift in me. I hold onto so many things: things I wish I’d done differently, people who’ve hurt me, times I tried and failed, the lingering notion of not being good enough, stories in my head which never come to fruition, worst case scenarios which do, anger, resentment and pain. It’s a dull ache, a constant clench, whispering caution and full of doubt, extrapolating how all of this could go wrong.

And I make the decision to let it all go.

I am completely open and I let him in. I mean every touch I give him and every single word I don’t say:

You are not my first and you won’t be my last but you are everything I need right now. You are the only person who matters in this moment and I’m going to show you with everything I have, just how much. Whatever this is, I will not give you any less of me. I’m not asking for anything after tonight, but I’m going to make love to you because there is no other way to do it with you.

And I did.

It was perfect.

I won’t get into the details but I will tell you some things he did NOT do:

-He didn’t put his hand over my mouth.

-He didn’t tell me to be quiet in any way.

-He didn’t put anyone else before my pleasure, including his own.

-He didn’t try to convince me that I don’t need an orgasm during sex. He just gave it to me. At least eight times. AT LEAST. And that was just on the beach….

There were some fun moments, one of which was this:

In the process of switching positions, he takes his jacket off and puts it on me so I’m not cold and suggests I turn around so I can have a better view. What a gentleman! And as he carries on railing me from behind, I take a mental picture. I’m on all fours staring at a wide open, empty beach, with a half blood moon reflecting on the water, cozy AF because I have a warm jacket on while this gorgeous man gives me exactly what I want, over and over again.

I am having the absolute best time of life. The whole time.

In case you’re wondering, we remain relatively sand free throughout the process and he’s very diligent in keeping it off the mattress. Also, I see a shooting star- just in case this isn’t all enough.

We go back to the hostel and eat a ton of munchies: strawberries, cheese and crackers, mash and gravy, chocolate biscuits, chocolate mousse, toast with cream cheese and hot tea. We finish off in the shower and my god, his stamina is incredible.

The next morning, we say goodbye and he offers me a ride to the bus station which saves me $10 on an uber. Punny joke was inserted here. And that’s it.

This is the best sex I’ve had all year and in the top five best sexual experiences I’ve ever had.

I hope this will be one of the few memories which won’t be tarnished by anything that could have come after. Could there be more? Of course, but he’s not offering and I’m not asking.

And that’s the rub, isn’t it? Ted Mosby put it best in the HIMYM episode Drumroll, Please:

Ted: [Wondering if he should go into the bakery to meet Victoria] And to our dying day, we will remember everything about that night as perfect. Maybe we both need that. So many things go wrong in life, but this is the one thing that never will. It'll always, always be pure, unadulterated awesome. If I walk in there, I'm robbing both of us of what could be..

He ends up getting the girl but then completely ruins it, multiple times.

In this same episode, they talk about the drumroll- how the best part of a kiss is the lead up to the kiss and they’ll never see each other again after tonight because everything after has the potential to be disappointing. So they don’t kiss, they just do the lead up…like a drumroll before the curtain opens.

And I think this experience is something like a drumroll. Exciting with the promise of so much, but with the potential for great disappointment and pain. Maybe I’ll want too much or he won’t want enough, or we won’t have more things in common, or we have a foundation of passion with no longevity for a relationship or the desire fizzes too quickly because of wandering eyes and miscommunication and lack of understanding. Maybe I was a convenient/ willing lay and he’s already moved on or he isn’t looking for anything serious. But the outcome doesn’t matter.

At this point in my life, I’m still running. Moving so fast, the wind roars in my ears like a sound of thunder. I’m living like a loaded gun through morning grinds and lonely nights. And as much as I want companionship, safety and someone who feels like home…it’s not fair for me to project those desires on people I encounter during this volatile phase.

But I’ll be ready… for whenever the storm breaks, when the curtain opens after the drumroll. I’ll be standing tall when lighting finally strikes twice.

Because when that peaceful rain falls from those glorious heavens, I’ll be dancing beneath it with the utmost gratitude…in the arms of someone who loves me.

If you liked this piece, you’ll enjoy my screenplay about “Other People” here.