Most of my nights as Lola begin in the same way. I drink, she dances. She smiles in a way that I am not familiar with. Maybe it’s because she knows how to be blithe, maybe it’s because she allows herself to be ignorant. She approaches the world in such a relaxed demeanour and sometimes, I don’t understand how she can do that. Yes, we are the same person, but our attitudes and occasionally our morals do no coincide. So, it’s no wonder a lot of my sexual experiences happen with Lola steering my body.

One night, she had been out with a girlfriend at one of her favourite bars in Vancouver, Portside Pub. There we happened to meet up with a guy she was interested in and his friends. They danced there in a group for a bit, until her girlfriend and the guy wanted to get more intimate. She was then left to pity dance with the guy’s friend. It was extremely awkward. Neither of them wanted to dance with each other. Instead, they thought they were sparing each other from the embarrassment of sitting alone in a dark corner. At some point, her dance partner had to pee and introduced me to a friend of his– and her new dance partner, Mitchell. This guy was SO weird. But, Lola thrives off weird. His dance moves involved shoving her into people and laughing. She reacted to the shove by convincing him that she was hurt (she wasn’t) which made him approach her with worry. His worry is what she needed to exact her revenge. She waited until he was nice and close and then with all her strength, she shoved him into several people.

There is a facial expression that Lola gets from guys. It’s a great expression: wonderment. She chases that look. So, when she shoved Mitchell into several people, she met that look with welcoming arms. Lola’s original dance partner actually came back at that point and asked her to dance again which made Mitchell back away with a sulky expression. This confused Lola. “Why are you leaving?” She asked. “You’re gonna dance with him again,” He replied. Lola stared at him puzzled for a moment and then smiled, “What gave you that impression?” Mitchell came up to her again and shoved her. Lola laughed and her original dance partner stood there perplexed. Honestly, he was probably asking himself what the actual fuck is happening right now..

After a few more shoves, Mitchell built up the nerve to ask Lola if she wanted to grab more drinks (which is a silly question to ask Lola, she always wants more). They go upstairs from the dance floor and order vodka cranberries (Classic Lola drink). He bets her that she can’t finish her drink before him. She asks what the winner gets. “If I win, I get a kiss. If you win, you get another drink,” He devises. Lola never strays from a bet. It was a deal, but she reminded him that her drink was quite large for her to chug (it wasn’t really, she’s just a cunning fox). He admitted that was true and agreed that she could start chugging her drink for 10 seconds before he would start. Ultimately, Lola won the bet (obviously). Mitchell was so embarrassed and dejected that Lola won and this amused her because she could knew she recreate that face, wonderment. Lola listened to him congratulate her and then grabbed his face and kissed him. “You’re a great kisser,” he exclaimed afterwards. She smirks. He buys her another drink as per the bet’s requirement and run into their friends again.

They stay for a little while longer until he asks, “Do you want to get out of here?” And they do. They get into a cab and sing whatever was playing on the radio. Lola texts her mother and says she wouldn’t be coming home. He points out a building in downtown Vancouver that his family owns, but Lola doesn’t really find that all that interesting.  They get back to his basement suite of his parent’s West Vancouver home. “We don’t have to do anything,” he says, “You can sleep in my bed and I can sleep on the couch.” Where did his confidence go? Lola asks herself. Her response is a kiss. They go to his room and stumble while taking off their clothes, the lights on. What is it with the male obsession of taking off a female’s bra? Next, the condom rolls on and at this point Lola is sobering. Lola learns what whiskey dick looks and feels like. “It happens when I’ve been drinking,” he confesses. He attempts to have sex with his half limp dick and it doesn’t work out. He tries to give cunniligus and Lola tells him to stop, it was sloppy. He asks for a blowjob. Lola tells him she has never done one. He obsesses over that. “Come on, it would be so hot if I was your first blowjob,” he says. But, she firmly says no again and again and he grudgingly accepts that. He keeps talking about how “clean” her body is. “I love that you don’t have any tattoos or piercings, you’re so pure,” he remarks. Lola just lays there creeped out. “Thanks… I guess,” she replies. They go to sleep, well he does. She is lying there awake. She can only sleep in one man’s bed. She thinks of that man.

She wakes up Mitchell. She’s in a slightly dreamy state, thinking she’s kissing that man. Mitchell is lapping it up. “We should go for sushi sometime,” He says in between kisses. Lola doesn’t say anything. They try again. Nope, still shitty. Then, all of a sudden a giant dog leaps onto the bed and licks them. Mitchell doesn’t stop. Lola is creeped out, disgusted, embarrassed. Afterwards, he offers to drive her home. She accepts. She’s now her sober self. He asks her “out” several times on the way. She never gives him her number. She’s home, free to contemplate what a weird night that was. That’s going to be my last one night stand, she says to herself. And it was.


The beginning… sort of.

The beginning of 2010 was anything but joyous. In the first days of the new year, my grandfather died and my brother was hospitalized for depression. I was the emotional crutch for my parents and little sister during that time. On a daily basis, I would prop my mother up and wipe away her tears. My tear ducts sealed so that I could help my family effectively. I had to be the strong one, who else was going to be?

It was a difficult time and she came to me when I needed to remember what it was like to be an ordinary teenager.  Lola is the reason I can stay strong. When my life starts to feel crushingly painful, I have her. No, she’s not my imaginary friend. Lola is me. She is simply a mechanism that I use to cope. She is the girl that is down for anything. She is fun, wild, spontaneous, weird…sexy. Any rough time I have, I use her to feel better. How do I do this? Well, I go out and decide I pretty much only say, “Yes.” In the early years of Lola, she only participated in what you would call “innocent” activities like going to the mall or parks. However, now Lola has matured and participates at nightclubs, pubs, music festivals, and basically anywhere alcohol is served. She is now what one would designate as a “drunk persona.”

I want to use this platform to share my strange, hilarious, awkward, and lovely memories with her. No, I am not creating a Lola memorial. She’s not going anywhere, I love her. I just want to create a space that acknowledges everything she does for me.