I don’t know if any of you have ever gotten caught red handed writing your Gone Wild Stories, but last week that happened to me. I was back in my hometown for Thanksgiving with my parents. I went out to a bar for black Wednesday with my youngest sister. These kinds of things are always kind of awkward: you see people you knew in high school, some more attractive, some less. In my case, I have to fend off the creepiest of the creepers at the bar, while still looking for some kind of prospect.
In high school, I had a reputation… I fucked a lot of guys (33 by graduation by my count) and it stuck. I’m 27 now, have a good job, and have fucked plenty more men. But the creepiest of townie lowlifes with multiple DUIs still remember high school Ashleigh. Slut shame me if you want, but no one deserves aggressive advances from fat hairy guys who they barely knew from grammar school. Thank God, I saw some people I could talk to.