LOST BOSTON VIRGINITY: “TRAUMATICALLY.”
I went to school in Maine, which was my very first experience with anywhere north of the Mason-Dixon. During finals my freshman year, my roommate, a religious follower of The Cobra Snake insisted that we abandon our studies to catch The Kills on tour, because the lead singer has sex with a guitar, and this was apparently very rad.
Eventually, more to shut him up than anything else, a group of the four of us agreed to accompany him the two and half hours down to Boston, and to the first show I (he) actually paid for. My roommate’s raw sexual magnetism instantly attracted him to a radiologist from Woburn, who offered to buy him a PBR. Unable to turn down free booze from a woman in a neon headband, my nineteen-year old roommmate accepted. He was 86′d within a minute, right before the opening act took stage. We all thought about leaving in a show of solidarity, but fuck it—he was the one who made us come here in the first place. Dude flunked his Anthro exam the next day, and the part where she had sex with a guitar was totally rad. Boston ruled.