I knew she was out of my league
She was on another level
She was on another wavelength
I was Pony league, she was pro
I was amateur, she was celebrity
She was better looking, more experienced
She was more woman than I was man
She was a ghetto goddess
I was a dork
She was used to guys who beat up guys like me
I was used to girls who wore pink nail polish
The thought of even knowing her never even crossed my mind
Like it was even possible
Yet there we were, alone together,
In a ****** room at a ****** party,
And you thought I was just cute enough
You gave me your number, then demanded mine
This chick made me wish I was anyone but me
Someone more badass, more debonair
She was everything intimidating,
Too much woman for most men, more manly than some men
And for some reason, she wanted me
Our first date, her choice – a pool hall.
She schooled me on the man’s game
Our second date, her choice – Six Flags.
She only wanted to try the scary rides
Each date made me feel less worthy
Yet still she wanted me
Our third date was at her mother’s house
She made me dinner
She made me pasta, my favorite
And then we went to the bassment for a game of pool
Because she was that badass
Halfway into the game. She learned her mother would be gone for the night
So she grabbed a Billy Idol record, and started “Rebel Yell”
Like it was her anthem
As it began to play she said,
“If you can’t make this ******* needle skip, you ain’t hitting it right”
And she took off her shirt
And I almost cried with delight
No one had ever talked ***** to me before
Only in ****** had I seen such scenes like this
Now I was in one
And it was loud and rough, and wet and wild,
It was dangerous, it was merciless
It was a boy’s dream, it was a man’s heaven
Round One was on the pool table
We ripped the clothing from out bodies
Stripes and solids bounced off the floor
Tongues and arms spread across the table
She was a loud lover, and I loved it
Her legs wrapped around my neck
Her hands clinging to the pockets
Like I was the hero in an action film
Breaking the rules, banging the hottest woman
I was a seventeen year old MAN
(Oh and old Billy didn’t make it to the second chorus,
I made that needle skip)
Round Two was in her bedroom
She changed uniforms, into a pink lace shirt
That neither covered up, nor hid anything
Instead, it somehow made her even sexier
And the battle raged on
Into the night, and the morning beyond
The bed was soaked and stained
She flopped on top of me  with a slap of our sweaty skin
And I wore her like a trophy
As we both gasped for air,
I stuttered, “ I could get use to nights like this…”
And she turned to me, and we locked eyes,
“Nah, you’re not angry enough in bed for me.”
“I didn’t know we were suppose to be angry in bed.”
“Yeah, that’s why I usually date older guys...
They’re much more violent in bed… but this was okay.”
You know what’s worst than a bad *****?
A good ***** with a bad ending.