Have You Had Sex with Ben Savage?

During my first year of college, I had a friend whose best friend lost her virginity Ben Savage, better known as Corey Matthews of the television show Boy Meets World. Since the friend of the friend was not a star fucker, she only disclosed this piece of information to a couple of close friends, swearing them to secrecy. As you can probably guess, since I am privy to this information, clearly my friend did not keep her own mouth shut, telling at least five times the number of people the friend whose business it was ever told.

I'm actually a good secret keeper. This secret, however, had no consequence to anyone's life at my college's community, so I enjoyed teasing that I had this knowledge just to watch my friend whimper in regret for telling me the secret, while proceeding to disclose it to additional people.

One day, my college had a festival where you could make your own shirt with puff paint. I was in heaven! I thought long and hard about what I should write on the shirt before deciding on:


It reads, HAVE YOU HAD SEX WITH BEN SAVAGE? Given my artistic disabilities, it came out sloppy and somewhat illegible. I wear a lot of weird things, but even I wasn't comfortable wearing this shirt out in public, as I felt it implied that I had had sex with Ben Savage, which was neither the point nor true, mind you. Consequently, I wore it probably once before banishing it to my drawer until a special occasion.

That special occasion arrived when the best friend came to campus to visit. My friend asked me to please not say anything about the secret, so I promised not to say anything.

When the best friend arrived, I was sitting in my friend's room. I said hello then continued the conversation I was already having with other friends. Then I made a comment about feeling hot as I peeled off my sweatshirt, revealing my blue puff paint shirt that I had been wearing underneath. As promised, I was saying nothing, but I was letting my clothing doing the talking for me. You know, a fashion statement. Noticing the scene unfolding out of the corner of eir eye, an expression of terror crossed my friend's face. Simultaneously, Ted and Alice, who were seated by me, proceeded to tackle me to the floor and obscure the words on my shirt. I tried to break free, but before I could, my friend took the opportunity to quickly escort her best friend out of the room before she could figure out what was going on.

It was never my intention to get the friend caught, only to stir up a little shit. Having accomplished that, the shirt went back to my drawer, where it has remained unworn for the past five and a half years. Yesterday, while cleaning out my room, I rediscovered this shirt again and had a chuckle. Still having no desire to ever wear it again and realizing it would have no resale value at a goodwill store, I finally opted to throw it away. The shirt is gone, but the memories are not. (The memories of getting hot and sweaty with curly-haired Ben Savage.)

If perchance any of you have ever had sex with Ben Savage, please let me know in the next few days so I can rescue it before trash day.