faux pas?
So, there is one code in girl world that one must absolutely, positively, never ever break. Of course, last Tuesday (it was finals week, for God’s sake!) I made that cardinal error–I hooked up with one of my best friend’s former hookups.
I know, I know. It was a huge mistake, but let me explain the circumstances of how a girl can lose all willpower and go against girl code.
Let me just preface this by saying: it had been a horrific day. I had learned that my ex-boyfriend was dating someone new via Facebook (gotta love technology!) and had just seen Evan (yes, the object of my affection the night I almost decided to roofie a boy) with his brank spanking new and may i add UGLY girlfriend. I was not in good spirits. All this taken into account, I decided to bring a bottle of warm, cheap white zinfandel with me to my job on the school paper and down it as I completed some of my end of the semester duties.
Drunk off a bottle of cheap ass wine, I stumbled my way back to my friend Mark’s apartment where Brandon, my roommate’s Sadie’s former fling, lives, too. They’d only hooked up once or twice, but he’s her go-to guy whenever she’s drunk and needing to text someone for some flirtation.
I’d inadverantly stumbled into a pseudo-party. Twenty of my closest acquaintances were at Mark’s smoking, drinking and grinding to the most random collection of music. An average Tuesday when you’re a sophomore in a Manhattan university. Suddenly, Evan appeared out of nowhere (he happens to be good friends with Mark, too) to smoke some chronic and toss back a few beers. Suddenly, I couldn’t take it anymore. Here, in a city of 8 million people, the very boy I was trying to avoid and drown out with cheap alcohol was right in front of my face.
It was gross, but I needed to feel validated by a guy. Evan had rejected me for some frumpy blonde who carried her belongings around in a weird potato sack. I needed a man to make me feel like a hot piece again. Now, the only available males in the apartment happened to be Mark and Brandon. Mark, a flaming homosexual wasn’t going to solve my problem. I zeroed in on Brandon.
We kept making eyes at each other all night (probably due to the copious amounts of Il Bastardo consumed). Within minutes, we were pushing past Evan to get to Brandon’s bedroom. Suddenly, I realized that I was ripping off the clothes of the man that just the night before I had been encouraging Sadie to rekindle things with. FUCK. What was I doing??????? I was having sex is what I was doing. Fun, drunk, sloppy, validation sex.
OH MY GOD. I had just FUCKED Sadie’s go-to guy. What the hell kinda person was I???? Minutes after Brandon fell asleep, I threw my clothes back on and made my way back to my apartment. Stumbling back into my bedroom, I ran into Sadie in the living room.
“How was your night?” she asked, oblivious to who had been on top of me just half an hour before.
“Uhh, fine,” I answered.
The next morning, I woke up with a MEAN ass headache and a wave of guilt that has completely consumed my mind the past few days. What the hell should I do? Have I finally crossed the Smut line?
“keeping my options open”
So, last night was my roommate Kadence’s birthday, and we decided that the proper way to celebrate this occasion was by having a pseudo-kegger. We had made jungle juice, bought four cases of beer and cleared out the entire contents of our living room to make room for beer pong and and flip cup tables. Most importantly, we had invited every straight boy we know and VERY IMPORTANTLY, the senior at my school, Evan, that I’ve been trying to hook up with for the past two semesters. The stage was set for the epic hookup of all time. His best friend, Liam, was even committed (or convinced?) through several drunken facebook messages to hit it with Kadence. It was perfect.
Well, almost perfect. Unfortunately, Evan had not been so thourougly convinced, or even convinced at all to hook up with me. My uber advanced come ons, including the ever so suave inner thigh rub, were brutally rebuffed. Sad day. Evan finally became so uncomfortable with my jungle juice encouraged pick up lines that he decided to high tail it out of there before I roofied his drink. (The theme was a kegger, so it wouldn’t have been entirely ridiculous!) Sadly, he dragged Liam away with him (bromance?), so not even Kadance was able to “tap the bottle and twist the cap”, if you know what I mean.
Allowing myself to be brought down to reality for about .2 seconds, I finally realized that I had to reshift my focus. Yes, my night with Evan had not worked out as planned, but that didn’t mean that some other poor, innocent boy couldn’t be my victim for the night. I settled on Joe. Not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, but decently attractive, and with a personality loud enough to make Evan notice that he was hitting on me before he made his way out of the party. Score. I alerted Kadance to my new plans, pushed Joe into an empty room in our apartment and was about to have my way with him when he asked probably the most uncomfortable I’ve ever been asked in a sexual situation (other than that time that one guy asked if I’d ever been diagnosed with an STD. Kidding, of course).
Joe: “So, wait a second. Were you trying to hook up with Evan earlier in the night? I saw you talking to him a lot before.”
[Awkward silence.]
Me: “Uhhhhhh. Uhhhhhh. No, not really. I’m keeping my options open. Now that’s enough talking for now.”
to fuck or not to fuck? that is the question…
So, I must apologize for the delay in newer posts…I’ve been quite the busy bee lately, with much to update. There is one dilemma that has been weighing heavily on my mind and I’ve been itching to share–the one of the ambiguously gay hookup. I have this friend, Ian, who claims to be straight…yet insists on trying on high heels, kissing our mutual gay friend and says he would not mind fucking a guy when he’s drunk. Now, I’m an open minded gal, but even I have to question…what is this guy doing? Is he about the peen?
Now, I had ruled him completely out as a hookup option until a few weeks ago, when on just a regular Sunday night, a group of my friends were smoking and drinnking and the light, and suddenly I was inexplicably attracted to this fool…and he didn’t seem to think I was too bad either. Uh oh. This could only be solved by a gay conference. I pulled my friends Mauricio and Aaron to the side.
“What the FUCK is going on with you and Ian?”
“Um, I think I want to have sex with him.”
“Oh, well. Just making sure. Go for it.”
Ten minutes later, I was pulling Ian into Mauricio’s skanky bathroom and making out with him against a wall. Hmm. Ian is a good kisser. Almost too good. Kinda soft. Kinda like kissing a girl. It was about this time that I realized this was almost exactly like that one time I experimented with my friend Gina in the back of the bus in middle school. Fuck. Ian was awkwardly trying to stick his hand down my pants, then trynna cop a feel, just as if he had read it out of the “Straight Guy Guide Book”, you know, the one that says that you have to grab your crotch ten times in a conversation and grab a girls boobs ten seconds into a makeout sesh. It was almost too rehearsed.
Okay, Ian. We’re done here. I peeled myself off the bathroom wall just long enough to tell Ian we should get back to the burning joint and scampered out of the bathroom.
Now, two nights later, in a very randy and lonely night, I suddenly found myself, Blackberry in hand, sending a flirty message to Ian. And he responded accordingly. Siiiigh. I’m sooooo over sexual amibiguity.
In a conference with Aaron, he tells me that he does indeed think Ian is gay, but why not let him hit it. It wouldn’t mean anything to either of us, since we’re both about the cock, but why not pass the time together? Now, I’m conflicted: to fuck, or not to fuck?
and the awkward turtle ensues…
OH MY FUCKING GOD. Sexual tension between Eric and I has been mounting yet again, and I’m thinking that another sack session is soon to be on the agenda. I kinda feel like the first time we fucked might have been mediocre just because of first fuck jitters. I mean, every one has those, right?
Today at work-just as I am slowly allowing myself to flirt with Eric more openly and entertaining the idea of giving him another chance to prove that hes not just a bunny fucker–a bombshell drops. His girlfriend, Lauren, comes into visit. NO. This cannot, cannot, CANNOT be fucking happening. Not that the guilt is really eating me up inside anymore (I helped myself get over it with a bottle of Cuervo) but what if she figures us out? This bitch is a good foot taller than me and relatively ghetto fab. She can beat me down. Now, I’m fiesty, but I know when I’m clearly outmatched, and the last thing I need is a bruise across the side of my face just for the prospect of another average lay.
“Hey, Lauren!” I say, wayyyyyyy too politely.
”Oh, hi.” She shoots the DIRTIEST look in my direction, turns to speak to Eric for a good ten minutes, making sure to hug and kiss him plenty of times during her conversation, in between giving me dirty looks to make sure I’m noticing. Bitch is trying to school me. HELL FUCKING NO.
Finally, after she finally runs out of steam in her middle school attempt to mark her territory, she passes by me on the way out the door. I’m not letting her go this easily.
”Bye, Lauren!” I yell, obnoxiously loudly. “I’m REALLY sorry you won’t be able to come to the next store party. They really are so much more fun when you’re there. Don’t worry, though, I’ll take care of Eric for you!” I smile after giving my little speech, way too brightly for it to be sincere. This bitch’s head almost came off, fuming out of the store. Lauren:0; Me:7 billion. But who’s counting?
