Songwriter: Billy Corgan
Original Release: Gish
Definitive Version: None
You know what the definition of “regret” is, right? If you look it up in the dictionary, you’ll see a picture of a particular night in September 1992. If you look real hard, you might notice that the fool in the picture resembles me.
After the rousing success of the U2 concert at the Silverdome, Jenna and I were going good. For our third date, I suggested she come over to my place to watch a few movies—the pizza and champagne would be on me. She readily agreed.
Let me restate that: I had invited the hottest woman in Flint, if not the world, to my place, and she agreed! This was our third date, so we all know what I really had invited her to my place for and what she agreed to, right? (That’s called “foreshadowing,” kids.)
I can’t remember from where I bought the pizza that night, but I assure you it wasn’t Domino’s or (God forbid) Little Caesar’s. The champagne was probably whatever wasn’t the cheapest thing at the Kessel but not the most expensive. If I had to say now, I’d say Freixenet. Any knowledge of wines was years in the future.
Jenna was a smoker, which should come as no surprise given her job, a bar waitress, and her home, Flint, well, OK, Clio. But she didn’t smoke the whole night until the very end. She said she held off because of me. I appreciated the gesture very much.
The movies that Jenna rented—horror movies, probably—have been lost in the ether, but it didn’t matter. What matters is that we actually watched them—all of them.
Let me restate that: I had the hottest woman in Flint, if not the world, in my apartment, and I freakin watched movies with her! (That’s called “stupidity,” kids.)
OK, it wasn’t as simple as that. The truth is I had no plans to make any kind of moves on Jenna. Again, I was playing, or trying to play, the long game here, so I was acting like a gentleman. I didn’t want to push it too hard and push Jenna away.
So nothing happened, well, not right away anyway. At the end of the night, about 2 in the morning, we were curled up together on the sofa. It was way too late, and she had had too much champagne to drive home, so I invited her to spend the night, and she agreed. I gave her a pair of my sweats and a T shirt to use as sleepware.
It was only when we climbed into bed together with the lights off that I finally, FINALLY made my move. We did some heavy making out, and my hands roamed over her wonderous body, but just when I was about to move south beneath the sweats, she put the brakes on me. It was like I was back with Beth again, but I was plenty contented.
When Jenna left the next morning, little did I know, however, that the peak already had passed in our relationship. I still thought it was rising; things still were advancing. But after our sleepover, Jenna continued to pull back, and I continued to not push it.
Now, I suppose there are two ways to interpret these events legitimately. The first way is that maybe she really wasn’t ready for someone else and pulled back on her own. I believe that she pulled back because she was feeling that I wasn’t that into her, when the opposite couldn’t more have been the case.
Yes, I believe 100 percent that had I made my move at least two hours before I did, not only would Jenna not have worn any clothes during our sleepover, but we might not have gone to sleep until the sun came up the next morning.
Maybe it would have fallen apart between us anyway and maybe it still would have happened just as quickly as it did. We’ll never know, but at least if I had shown Jenna more clearly the depth of my desire when I had the chance, my picture wouldn’t be in the dictionary.
You also will find it filed under “fool.”