You may not remember me. In fact I am quite sure you don’t, so I will fill you in on the details of our meeting. It was 2004. I was a fifteen year old boy from the country, and you were a fifteen year old girl from the roughest parts of Ipswich, and you could drink more than anyone I have met. My best friend invited me over for the weekend and dragged me to a stoner basement for an underage party with all of his Ipswich friends that only knew me as “Spanish” even though I do not have Spanish heritage or look in any way Mediterranean. You approached me when I arrived and you were the first girl who ever tried to have sex with me.