Early into my junior year of college, I was watching Dirty Dancing and drinking box wine with my friend, “Nicole”. Nicole had just broken up with the guy she had “dated” since high school and needed some consoling. I say “dating” in quotes because she had basically been serially cheating on him for at least two years. Her ex was really straight edge: no drinking, no drugs, judge others about it, and not even religious. Nicole was not, so she would just get drunk on weekends and hook up with various guys.
Her “boyfriend” finally got wise and broke up with her, and Nicole took it hard, ergo the night of Swayze and Fran. Despite cheating on her ex **A LOT**, she wanted to get back at him. Now Nicole was short, maybe 5’2” but hourglass curvy, pale with big green eyes, and a huge mane of fiery red hair. Think Lindsay Lohan before cocaine, but with bigger hair and bigger boobs. She didn’t need to try to be able to hook up with whomever she wanted. *I just want to send him a pic of me fucking a giant dick* she says to me at some point.