Who’s The Whore Norman, -- I Mean Lazarus

      When I let my mother into the bathroom she saw the hickey and went nuts.

      She slapped me vigorously a few times before I managed to block and avoid her hands that continued striking me. 

      In shrill demanding tones she shrieked, “Who’s the whore?” “Tell me who the whore is or you will be grounded forever!”

      In my mind’s eye I could hear Norman Bates mother in the Hitchcock movie ‘Psycho’ screaming at me “Who’s the whore Lazarus!”

      My poor mother was trying to keep my virginity intact. Of course I didn’t have the heart or the courage to tell her that it was too late.

      With angry emphasis she said, “Tell me her name!”

      I said, “Come on mom, you know I can’t tell you.”

      I was referring to the code of ethics that I had been taught, meaning that real men do not give out the names of the women they have been with. I saw no sense in getting Honey in trouble. She may have been a senior and she may be engaged to another guy, but she still lived at home with her parents and she did not need the trouble with her fiancé.” Besides, the realistic side of me realized my new addiction and I knew that if I turned over my source of pleasure to my mother my relationship with Honey would have diminished. I may be grounded, but I still had those daytime catwalk interludes with Honey and Lucy.

      After two weeks, I was off home probation. I continued to enjoy the company of some of the seniors, which made me more popular with some of the other girls in the school.

      I found out by accident it was best to keep tight-lipped regarding any of the girls that I had sex with. It put me in good standing. Initially, I refused to gossip, because I was raised that men did not gossip and give names.

      Even though I had a strong desire to be seen as a cool stud by my peers, I was taught that men did what they could to protect the reputation of the women they engaged themselves to. When I was asked by many of the guys I hung out with, how this girl was or that girl was, or what we did, or did she, my basic assertion was we just talked and nothing happened. I learned a few lessons from this and benefited in ways I had not initially expected but exploited once I understood the politics of dating and sexual relations.

      First off, it was yet another example that I was to learned that people will believe what they want to believe regardless of what you tell them or the evidence you may provide contrary to their beliefs. My peers just knew I was getting laid and laid a lot.

      I thought how funny, if I simply told them the truth without embellishment, my ‘scoring’ with this girl or that girl, my peers would have doubted what I told them, as they often doubted each other. What I also thought interesting was that even though people may doubt the veracity of a peer’s story, this does not keep them from gossiping about their friend’s claims, which of course often causes negative backlashes.