I Am Enrappled With You

2 11 2006

This is one of my favorite stories. It used to be about something else, but today it’s about loss.

Eleven years ago I stumbled off a bus in Monterey, California, totally bewildered and still airsick. No, no from the bus. I was supposed to be met by a Navy person who would take me back to the Navy barracks at military language school and get me checked in. However, the plane I originally flew in on MISSED THE RUNWAY and flew all the way back to San Francisco where I was given the option to take a later flight (Please! After you almost killed me???) or a bus. I bussed it. (And by the way, it is solely because of that nasty flight that I am no longer able to eat cappuccino ice cream. Alas.) Ok, where was I? Oh yes. Monterey.

I had a roommate for a short time and her name was Gretchen B. She was later to become Gretchen A, and don’t even get me started on women whose last names start with an early letter, and then they marry UP in the alphabet. Ok. I was dating a young man of the tortured soul variety and Gretchen B was dating an All-Around Good Guy. The four of us decided to go camping and happily packed up Tortured Soul’s tiny little red pick-up truck with coolers, blankets, Doritos, and the two tents we’d borrowed from the Equipment Borrowing Place, formally known as MWR. After a very long drive with the four of us squished into this tiny red truck, we arrived and set up camp only to discover that one of the two-person tents didn’t have any poles. So, much like the two-person truck, we’d now be squishing four people into the 2-person tent. Joy! Cozy!

After we’d roasted hot dogs and had the Doritos stolen by a bold and menacing raccoon, Gretchen B, Good Guy, Tortured Soul and I crawled into the tent. At first it was funny, and then it became really funny. And then we fell asleep, me facing Tortured Soul, Gretchen B facing Good Guy. At some point I was awoken by a constant nudge nudge nudge on my head. I opened my eyes to see Tortured Soul staring back at me, wide-eyed and bemused. I opened my mouth to ask “What..” and was silently shushed by Tortured Soul. I feigned sleep and turned my head to the other side towards Gretchen B and Good Guy. Guess what I saw. That’s right, Gretchen B writhing atop Good Guy. It may or may not be worth mentioning that Gretchen B was somewhat chubby and Good Guy was a slim fit man. I share this only to flesh out the characters, chubby was becoming on Gretchen B.

All right. So there I am next to people In The Act, and I was puritanically mortified. Ew! Gross! In my fake-sleep I turned my head back towards Tortured Soul and again looked deep into his bugged-out eyes. His face was red with suppressed laughter (ok, it was dark, I’m not sure if his face was red, but he was suppressing laughter. Allow me some creativity here!) and again he silently shushed me. My head once again received the subtle nudging from Gretchen B’s passion and I, too, wanted to laugh. And so I did. Softly, at first, but then Tortured Soul’s buy eyes, coupled with the increasing speed of the nudge nudge nudge finally did me in and I snorted. Good Guy, who sounded rather out of breath, mumbled “Let’s try me on top, see what that does,” and I could no longer restrain myself. My laughter howled out into the night like so many hysterical coyotes. The nudging ceased; Gretchen B whined out at me “Kathy! You’ve ruined EVERYTHING!” and that was it. Tortured Soul and I gave in and laughed ourselves sick. Almost literally, because Goldschlager and campfire hot dogs will do that to a person.

Weeks passed, Gretchen B and Good Guy continued to date and eventually (after two months) became engaged. This was what’s commonly referred to as a DLI Marriage: you know someone for three months and then get married. Ok. Good Guy completed his training at DLI and left for the next part of linguist training down in a lovely little west Texas town. He was as devoted as possible for a distant fiancé to be and wrote letters to Gretchen B on a near-daily schedule. Gretchen B then taped these love letters to the side of her wall locker for all the world to see. Not that all the world came into our room, but you know what I mean. Good Guy spoke awkwardly of his devotion and confessed that his heart ache. Just like the red face from suppressed laughter, I might be making this part up, the whole heart ache thing. There’s only one part which I distinctly remember, and here it is: Good Guy proclaimed that he was enrappled with Gretchen B. Yes. Enrappled. I can only imagine that this word describes a state of being blindly and passionately infatuated with someone. Enrappled.

Sadly, Tortured Soul soon ended our relationship. I was heart-broken. I found solace in my friend WonderKeith and his dramatic interpretations of Good Guy’s love letters to Gretchen B. Each letter included this new word enrappled and we’d clutch our aching sides and sway sideways, weary from our cackling laughter. I loved WonderKeith, and I still do to this day, even though I don’t know where he is and finding him would be rather uncomfortable. But that’s another story for a Never day. At some point Gretchen B flew down to Texas to marry Good Guy. She returned to our room and moved out, but not before I swiped a pair of her sandals that I’d always coveted. I’d like to say I meant to return them and never got around to it, but that’s not true. Alas. It later turned out that those were the sandals she’d worn during her wedding. And the tree under which they’d been married was felled by a tornado.

So, what was the loss? I’m not sure. My blossoming love for Tortured Soul? The carefree, undented happiness of my own soul? Gretchen B’s marriage? My friendship with WonderKeith? I don’t know. Usually when I tell this story it’s to share how icky it was to be next to Gretchen B and Good Guy while they were doing the Humpty Dance. I miss WonderKeith. Tortured Soul just became a daddy. I have no idea what became of Gretchen B after she left Good Guy and Korea after finding Good Guy entwined around (and undoubtedly enrappled with) someone else.

Ok. Here are some Halloween pictures of my kidlets. If you look at the first picture closely, you can make out Nolan’s handsome face in his zombie hood. And the delightful Chloe! I love my kids so much. Those crazy people!






8 responses

2 11 2006

That, my friend, is a fantastic story.

I’m going to have to incorporate the word Enrappled into daily conversation.

2 11 2006

My camping story isn’t nearly as bad. All we heard was, “Oh Danny!” repeatedly and louder as time passed. Funny how folks think nylon is a sound barrier 😦 LOL

Anyway, loved the story and I will try to send a valentine card this year with that word included…to pay homage, of course!

Sex next to friends is NEVER okay LOL

2 11 2006

Nudge nudge nudge. Enrappled. I’m hysterical over here.

Awesome costumes on awesome kids. 🙂

2 11 2006

Do you think enrappled might described what two people do when they’re horny sleeping in a two person tent with two other people?

Man, I enrappled her brains out last night!!!

Great story!

P.s. Your kids are cute–even your obscured zombie!

3 11 2006

I, too, dated a Tortured Soul in Monterey, but our camping trip was taken in a white pick-up truck and wasn’t nearly as exciting. Texas was much more eventful in that regard. As for loss, well… Hmm. I guess it has something to do with a time you can never return to – and even if you could, it wouldn’t be the same. Sometimes I still cluck at myself for some of the stupid situations I got myself enrappled in, but I also miss the freshness of being young and on my own and the friendships that have irretrieveably gone their way. Shrug. Sorry, that’s the best I can do.

Remind me to tell you sometime about why inflatable swimming pools and badminton sets are now banned items in 629.

3 11 2006

Ohhhh. I never got that sneaking full on sex past someone like that….ewwww.

OLPP, I am enrappled with you!

4 11 2006
P del F

ENRAPPLED!!!! That’s awesomely hilarious if he did it on purpose and horrifyingly hilarious (and simultaneously sad) if he didn’t. 🙂

Enrappled is so in my vocab now. Enraptured + grappling, as with a forbidden love = enrappled.

Fusking love it.

6 11 2006

lol. Great dit. You’ll have to try and get “enrappled” into the wickpedia.

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