The Morning After: Make New Friends and Ditch The Old
I was working late on a Friday night and the guys at work convinced me to hang out at the bar afterward. My mom was in town, so I went to a little martini bar with her after work and actually stayed out pretty late (for her). When she went back to the hotel at just past midnight, I called the guys to ask where they were. They all answered they were in a local dive bar not too far away. I headed over and did a couple rounds – they were nowhere to be found. I texted, called – nothing. So I decided they were having too much fun to answer at that moment (we’ve all been there) and I sidled up to the bar to have a drink and wait for a bit. No sooner had I ordered than some creeper had latched on. I was trying to be polite, but made it clear I was waiting for people. He kind of smirked and asked, “Well, where are your friends, then?”
“Um…I don’t know. They’ll be here soon.”
“Well, while you wait, you can sit at my table.”
Meh. I wasn’t doing anything, so I headed over and stood near his table with his friends (also creepers). After about three minutes, I decided that more drinking was needed.
“Oh wait, I see my friend at the bar. Sorry!” I practically ran away, desperately searching for any guy standing alone. Bingo. Japanese guy with his back to me. I rushed up to him and tapped his shoulder. “Hi, this is weird, but I need you to pretend to know me because I need rescuing from those guys over there in the booth.”
He looked bemused and simply shrugged his ascension.
After a couple seconds of awkward silence, we started drinking and talking. He turned out to be really cool and we had a lot in common. Pretty soon it was last call (and my friends STILL hadn’t made an appearance) and he told me that there was an after party at his friend’s house. Well, why not? (Besides the obvious “he could take me in an alley and kill me,” which didn’t even cross my drunken mind.)
We headed down the street to his friend’s house, which was completely dark – nobody was home. He paced around for a second, trying to call people to figure out what was going on. He looked at me apologetically. “We can always have an after party at my place.”
“Alright, fine,” I responded, against my better (read: sober) judgment. “Where is that?”
He named an address that was at least a 10 minute drive from where we were and there was no way either of us could drive. Luckily, having worked at a hotel for two years, I knew all the cab companies and we had a ride in no time. Though, that didn’t solve all the issues. Once we were at his house his keys wouldn’t work. Things were getting sketchy. I even told him so.
“No, no, don’t worry, I can break it. I live here, it’s just not legal, you know? No paperwork. My keys usually work, though.” I was getting ready to run fast and far when one of his roommates finally let us in.
At last, the night seemed to be going well. Or at least not horribly wrong. His room was filled with cool conversation topics and I was liking him more and more. We started hooking up and it got to the point where I wasn’t going any farther without protection, so I had to ask that extremely awkward question that we all love – “Do you have a condom?”
He looked surprised. “No, I never use condoms.”
Um, hold on there, cowboy. Never? I know this should have been my cue to leave, but this guy was cute and funny and interesting and I was tired/tipsy anyway. I insisted he find one. He jumped out of bed and started banging on his roommates’ doors stark naked and yelling, “Dude! Open up! This is crucial!” It would have been amusing if it wasn’t so awkward.
He came into the room in a slight panic since no one had answered their doors. “They must all be blacked out!”
I shrugged. “Oh well, guess we’re both out of luck then.”
“No, no, there’s a gas station not too far from here, I’ll just run and go get some!” He threw on boxers and a zip-up hoodie and ran out of the house. It was February.
He was gone 45 minutes and I, of course, fell asleep since it was around 4am when he went on his condom adventure. He came back, panting and carrying a half-drank liter of water, bearing gifts: he had found some condoms. I was exhausted, but I thought, “Hey, he went through all that effort and I’m sure the sex is going to be awesome. Might as well.”
Well, guess what? The sex wasn’t awesome. He couldn’t even get it up. He was so desperate he threw a condom on his poor, limp member anyway and tried it out. I stopped him and tried not to laugh. “Guess it wasn’t meant to be.”
I left a few hours later to catch an early hair appointment and the same cab driver that dropped us off came back to pick me up and take me home. I was a complete mess and was most definitely still drunk. To add insult to injury, it was now raining. All in all, the night was one huge FML moment – mostly for the guy.