I ended up in the bathroom; first in front of the toilet, and then in the bathtub. Fully dressed, I turned on the faucet and started a bath. I fell asleep.
I awoke when I heard the door unlock. He had been making the rounds, trying to make it with each one of us but deterred by threats of vomit or angry boyfriends or lack of consciousness.
It was my turn. He sat down on the side of the bathtub, dipped his hand in and began touching me. I was so drunk that I remember watching him slip his fingers inside of me and thinking it was funny—not violating. Luckily, my three friends burst in soon after to drag me from the bathtub, out of his house and into one loyal boyfriend's 1994 Toyota Corolla.
For years I used to incorporate that evening into bragging rights about the men in uniform I had hooked up with. I would start off with the lowest of the low—the Coast Guard—and work my way up to the firefighter.
"Now what would top a firefighter?" I would ask my audience. "Well, I don't know if I can technically count him since we went directly to third base, but—" and I would pause for dramatic effect, "I was fingered by a Secret Service agent in his bathtub." What Can We Learn From The Secret Service Sex Scandal?
The thing is, when my 30-year-old self looks back on the reality of the situation, there was nothing brag-worthy about it. The myth of the Secret Service agent as honorable and valiant certainly doesn't extend into their sex lives, at least in this particular case. Granted, my performance that night wouldn't win me any medals either; I know that.
When the lights go down in Washington, D.C., the leaders and their protectors allow for a little wiggle room in that perfectly cast mold we've come to know as The Establishment. It's a reality that locals are familiar with, and that audiences around the world are being reminded of this week.