Junior hasn’t had a sexy-time adventure in two years.

Junior hasn’t had a sexy-time adventure that he remembers in three.

I reach into my closet and grab my Candystriper. It gives me powers. Not Superman’s X-Ray vision or Spidey Sense. I’m talking Zack Morris-I’ll stop time and look under Kelly’s dress during the middle of Mr. Tuttle and his lecture on driver’s ed-powers.

It hasn’t always been the Candystriper that put me to another level. 

I’m five minutes into my freshman year and everyone is staring at me.  I’ve only been in the country for six days and I’d like to think it’s due to the fact that I was the only 14 year old with a full grown beard but that wasn’t the case. 

I walk into class and I’m sporting a New Zealand Rugby Shirt. Nothing really strange there except the Kiwi’s are called the All Blacks and my remedial algebra class wasn’t that impressed with my embroidered Rugby Jersey.

I needed help stat and I got it in the form of Crystal, apparently a Kiwi lover. She directed me to the mall (and I use that term loosely.)  An hour later I emerge a new man decked out in a silk shirt buttoned to the top and some fly peg jeans that AC would kill to wear.

I walk into Algebra class and the looks haven’t changed.  Apparently I wasn’t supposed to shop at The Chess King either.  I’d be lying though if I said I threw away the shirt. 

Summer is fast approaching and I inform The Colonel I need some new clothes.  He won’t budge.  I have to use his terminology. 

“I need some knock-around clothes.” 

“From Penny’s?”

“Sure.”  My sullen voice doesn’t matter.  I’m desperate and we head in.

I emerge from the mall a new man.  I head to the pool and I’m decked out in my Big Johnson T-Shirt and fluorescent yellow Quicksilver swimsuit.  I head for the upper classman lifeguards and tap my inner-preppy.  It makes for a fun filled PG-13 Sexy Time Summer.

I realized then that it doesn’t have to be from the hippest store, or the hottest line.  A Super Powers outfit can be from Penny’s, or stolen from a neighbors clothes line.   

Freshman year and I’m at Tech. We just beat Miami and Ricco is having a house party. I skip the line and don’t pay a cover. I like to think it’s due to me contributing to the big win (I didn’t do anything), but in my twisted mind that makes me feel like I didn’t contribute to a loss either.  You see, you’ve always gotta spin it so you come out ahead.

I’m decked out in Britches gear and see Snuggles holed up in the kitchen relieving himself in a bucket.  Strangely this makes me approach him.

I glance across the hall and I see Catherine. Ahhh Catherine. I love you.  I love the fact that you live on my floor. I love the fact that I have a co-ed dorm. I love the fact that my girlfriend is at home studying for her SATs.

I’m a bit of a scum-bag I know, but Catherine...

I glance at Snuggles and he’s got no aim. He’s hitting everything and the bucket. I look at him and he’s staring at Catherine. He’s mesmerized. Or just drunk. But probably a bit of both.

"Snuggles what the hell?" I point at his pecker, the bucket and the mess. His face reads crap.

Shit is that Kendra, Ricco’s roommate? If she finds us pissing on her floor we’re dead. More importantly it will be a hell of a lot harder to get into these parties.  She’s heading our way. This can’t be good.

I motion to Snuggles to get rid of the bucket. He opens the window and Kendra is getting closer. He throws the evidence outside.

Relax the evidence is gone. We’re free and I can get back to Catherine.  Almost.

I feel wet. It’s not the good kind either.

I look out the window and then on me. Snuggles the drunk forgot to open the screen.

Snuggles’ urine is everywhere, including on me. Kendra storms off and I smell like a frat floor and look about the same. Snuggles is apologetic.  What he doesn’t realize is in six hours he is going to show up at Dunkin Donuts hammered and stumble in on his father’s bible study.  More apologies will be needed. 

I look over at Catherine and say goodbye.

She’s over.

She’s done.

She’s walking my way!

Damn you Snuggles! Damn you to hell! Catherine didn’t see it. I look at Snuggles and he knows the look of desperation, he’s been wearing it since he was four. He motions to Shock-Fu and we get some cover.

Chinese Fire Drill.

Snuggles just became a great friend.  He looks like a plus size Britches Model and he’s covered in urine.  Granted it’s his own, but still.  I grab his ring tee and throw it on. 

Catherine leans in.

“I’ve always wanted to make it with Tomax and Xamot.”  She didn’t say that but they were on my shirt. And I wore it the rest of my first freshman year. 

When I felt the powers were beginning to fade, I’d throw it in front of Snuggles while he was at the urinal.  I don’t know if it was the shirt or the Snuggles droplets but I had some of the greatest Sexy Time Adventures that year. 

Spring Break 2K1 and we’re in Key West. I’m almost five years removed from the ring tee and I’ve had several replacements. Lately it’s been Old Blue. The Consigliore bought it for $3 because it had a permanent stain on the front. I took the shirt and a week off from Economics and worked on that stain. I got it out and packed it in the Windstar for my trip south.   

We’re four days in and the shirt has only left my back for some swimming and sexy time mingling. It’s only form of cleaning is by iron and the residue of 37 shots has finally settled in. I pull it to my nose and I can smell Sloppy Joes and the drunken co-eds. This shirt is a SB2K1 Museum. I throw it on and head to the pier for the sunset.

It’s getting close and I’m chill-axing waiting for the sun to go down. I need to head to Sloppy Joes. I need to get my sexy time dance groove on. I miss Catherine. She doesn’t miss me.  She misses Rex.  And 8-Ball.  And everyone else that realized she had a weakness for Cobra.   

I turn to walk away and there she is. Alison.

Our eyes meet and a tractor beam sucks me right in.  She smiles and I walk over.  She didn’t leave my side for a year. Either did the shirt. I loved Alison. I loved that shirt.

Alison dumps me. I can’t deal with this. I throw all the memories of Alison away. Except for Old Blue.  This shirt brought me love.   

I’m living in Los Angeles and I’ve been drinking all night. I head to work and I’m still buzzed. It should make for an interesting work day.

I doubt I’ll be productive. Granted a productive day for me involves free-long distance, hours of downloading cheat codes and mixing in a little myspace as I search for internet-love.

I clock in and head to lunch. I stop at my desk and grab a red cup. I fill it up with my stash of beer. By stash I mean from the bar. The bartenders think I’m their manager. They wouldn’t think this if I didn’t stay up there all the time. It also doesn’t hurt when I tell them I’m their boss and they need to fill up my cup.  They have a Plasma TV up there as well. It’s nice to booze and Stump the Schwab.

After the bender I was on last night I need a refresher. My cup is full and I head to burger day in the cafeteria. Ahh life’s sweet pleasures.

I look around and find another sweet pleasure. Isabella.

She’s hot. She’s young. She’s smiling at me. I finally have liquid courage and make my move. She tells me she likes my shirt. I glance down. It’s The Candystriper. I guess I didn’t change from last night.  I guess it makes sense now that everyone kept asking me where my suit was.  They are probably wondering why my hands are stamped as well.  Oh well I tell them.  It’s casual Thursday. 

The Greek’s in town and he’s brought presents.  Well not knowingly.  I went into his suitcase and borrowed a shirt of his.

We’re three minutes into our first bar.

"I like your shirt." The lady tells me. I’m pushed out of the way by The Greek.

"I bought it." She’s not amused and walks off. Damn you The Greek.

Five minutes in and I’m told the same thing. Eight minutes in and I’m dancing. Twelve minutes in and Tara Reid can barely stand. She’s staring at me in the Candystriper though. I’m surrounded by girls and they love me.  And the shirt.  The Greek will not be getting this back anytime soon.  A sexy time adventure is about to ensue. 

When I die I want to be buried in this shirt.  I also want the Imperial Guards to serve as my pall-bearers.  The Consigliore will make sure this happens. 

When I go out of town, I don’t take a suitcase.  I wear everything I need.  The Candystriper is legendary.  I’ve googled the shirt and the brand countless times and found nothing.  It’s one of a kind and I’ve got the power.

Junior and I are at dinner with two girls we just met.  Junior’s falling in love.  He needs this.  It’s been a long time.  When I say long time, I’m talking droughts in the Sahara aren’t this long.  He’s almost given up hope. 

Junior is floundering.  He’s spitting out liquid manure and he’s losing the Dutch Princess.  I’m doing my best to keep everyone happy, but it’s hard.  The Europeans excuse themselves.  I look at Junior.

He tells me he’s dying.  I tell him he’s right.  He wonders if they’ll come back.  I assure him they will.  He doesn’t know what to do.  I can sense his desperation.  I glance at the mirror above the bar and smile.  It’s go time.

“Here take this.” I tell Junior. 

The girls are back and the Dutch princess leans in and whispers in Junior’s ear. Junior smiles.

Junior hasn’t had a sexy time adventure in two years.

Junior hasn’t had a sexy time adventure that he remembers in three.

Things are about to change.

The waiter approaches our table and tells me I have to leave.  It’s no surprise. 

No shoes.  No Shirt.  No Service.  I get up and walk away. 

I look at myself in the bar mirror.  I’m shirtless for the first time in years.  I glance at Junior in the Candystriper.  It’s his time. Besides the other girl was French. 

It’s another night and I need a shirt.  Snuggles is working on sending me his urine but I don’t know if that’s what I want.  I push the tee aside.  I grab Old Blue and head out.  I need to go bump into Isabella.