I have a very strong moral compass. If I see an injustice, or potential for it, I get extremely upset and actively try to correct it. It has absolutely taken a toll on me, so I’m trying every day to let things go instead of becoming vigilant. Some people are just beyond fixing.
Enter my cousin, Chastity. The most self-serving human being to ever exist. My sister and I think she’s a sociopath, but that has yet to be diagnosed by a professional. In short, she’s scum. We’ve never gotten along, aside from a two-year intermission where I must have been suffering from head trauma. The list of atrocities are endless, but for now? We’ll discuss her “appetite.”
During my Sweet 16, she took a liking to one of my friends (really, friend of a friend that we invited in order to fill seats last-second) who was entering his sophomore year of college while she was entering her sophomore year of high school. He became her first boyfriend because of her persistence. Okay, whatever. My family did not see a problem with it. They went on one date in the mall, they kissed, and then they broke up shortly after because she “couldn’t handle the distance between them.”
And it was all downhill from there. She is the embodiment of “boy-crazy.” Although she allegedly did not lose her virginity until she was 17, that did not stop her from the 1st through 3rd base (yes, ALL of 3rd base!) experiences she had with multiple partners. How do I know? She was so willing to share the graphic details of it all!! She took a lot of pride in her sexuality, which is fine! I’m all for women doing their thing and being comfortable in their own skin, but here’s where things start to get a little shady.
She became (for lack of a better term) a groupie for the local music scene. My friend happened to be apart of the local music scene during this time, but as a musician and not a groupie. He attended a family gathering and knew her before I could introduce her. The reason? In his delicate, fragile way of putting things: “Yeah, all the guys who would go with her would come back scratching their nuts.” (In other words, she was spreading STDs!)
Somehow, along the way, band kids turned into their drug-addicted devotees which turned into their drug-dealers which turned into gang members. She has an interesting way of introducing these people into the family though… “Oh, he USED TO smoke crack” … ‘Oh, he USED TO sell drugs to middle-school kids” … “Oh, he USED TO be in a gang, but still likes the gang’s colors and wears them anyway.” Yeah. Bullshit.
Stay with me, reader.
While she was dating the gang member for about a year (with casual partners in between), she started rekindling the fire with her first boyfriend! Homeboy had since joined the military and had done several tours. He was coming home and wanted to see her because they had been speaking for a few months. She picked him up from the airport and sparks flew. However when he asked her, “Chastity, what are we?” she answered, “Comfortable. Don’t push it.” By the end of his leave, they were visibly more than comfortable. My family was thrilled that he wasn’t a gang member (or worse, in the eyes of my Italian-American Roman Catholic family… black!), so they cheered them on.
One problem… She was still dating the gang member and hadn’t told the soldier.
And another problem… he asked my sister for Chastity’s ring size as soon as he got on the plane. He was going to propose when he was home again in a month.
My vigilance kicked in and I contacted him. I said something to the tune of, “I’m rooting for you guys but give the relationship some time to grow if you’re in it for the long haul!” because I knew she was still figuring out how to end things with the gang member. I got in return (basically) “fuck you, I’m going to do what I want.”
The engagement took place. I couldn’t stop it. And then the wedding plans commenced.
In the middle of discussing her participation in a wedding expo, Chastity confessed to my sister that she was tired. Tired of her lifestyle, but specifically tired of being noncommittal. She then unearthed a little black marble notebook, in which she kept her past experiences.
Dozens of pages filled.
Containing the names, numbers, and a star ratings of each sexual experience she’s ever had.
The star ratings were broken into two categories: How far, and how enjoyable.
She was so proud of it, in spite of her confession! She flipped through the pages, also providing information not seen on the page about the hook-ups.
This helps her to keep organized, should she ever consider double-dipping.
And she did double-dip. Frequently.
My poor innocent sister just sat there with her mouth open.
Chastity’s act of playing tired did not last very long though… The engagement lasted 3 months before she cheated on him (at least twice) and he caught her. They broke up, she continued to date one of the gentlemen she cheated on him with, and then when he was back home on leave, she cheated on the new gentleman with her ex-fiancé. Back and forth, until the ex-fiancé had enough and called it quits. She told the whole family he was crazy and had PTSD. She was probably right, but the PTSD may have been from enduring the roller-coaster of a relationship she put him through.
She is the only person I know who kept a little black book. “Kept” is past tense here, because the black book is sadly no more…. it’s been upgraded to a word document. Easier to reference, and now it’s alphabetized! Her new man knows about it, and has been heard saying, “all those men, and I won the prize!”
Congratulations! You’ve won chlamydia!!