The Morning After: Hi Dad?
To most, summer means reuniting with hometown friends, hosting backyard barbecues with beer pong, and traveling around the world with the college budget out of sight. But for me, this past summer meant going home to jobs, internships and the tiny closet I haven’t used since high school. The three months of being at home again would be the longest period of time I would be living under my parents’ roof (and rules, again) since coming to college, which meant three months without going out, partying and/or anything else of college student fun.
It also meant three months without sex. I’m not a nympho, but I do have a functioning vagina. So it was a loooonnng summer.
I had finally cut things off with my on-again-off-again boyfriend just before leaving my college town for the summer. We had our reasons for not trying to work it out anymore, but after a season away from our relationship – or any relationship, for that matter – trying to make it work was beginning to look a bit more attractive than usual…
After three months of family bonding and resumé building, I moved back to school for the extensive period of icebreakers and information sessions known as RA Training. At my school, the RAs share an apartment with a handful of their residents – mostly because there are no one-person apartments solely for the RA. – so this year, I found out I was to live with six of my residents.
A week after meeting my brand new roommates and moving in, I had a moment of physical and mental weakness: I called my ex-boyfriend. He immediately came over. And stayed the night.
The next morning, I was trying to get him out of the apartment without any of my new roommates seeing him – I didn’t want to give off that impression to them as their Resident Advisor, especially only after meeting them a few days ago. I opened my bedroom door and saw the hallways empty, all other doors closed. Coast was clear!
I had him walk in front of me towards the front door, and as we tiptoed and whispered and tried to be as quiet as possible, my ex-boyfriend suddenly said, “Hello, how are you?” to someone standing in the kitchen.
“…I’m fine.” An older man. A father. A very conservative father of one of my roommates. While we were trying to sneak out of the apartment, his daughter was getting ready to spend the day with him – he had just arrived to pick her up.
Obviously, I did not use this golden opportunity to introduce myself as the RA, or mention the fact that this guy was my ex and a one-time occurrence resulting from an uneventful summer at home. Although, I probably should have, because when we came back from breakfast, I found my roommate in tears and her father incredibly upset. For some reason, he had assumed that my ex stayed over with his daughter, who had moved away from home for the first time yet was already running wild the first week (good thing he had no idea about Welcome Week’s traditions!).
So not only did I have to explain to my residents that the boy in question was indeed there for me (and that I broke my own rules 6 days into the school year), but I also had to sit down with some girl’s father and explain to him that I, his daughter’s resident advisor, was responsible for the awkward walk of shame that morning.
That will definitely be the last time this year that I bring a boy back to my apartment!
…if anything, we’ll just stay at his place in the future.
[You think that's bad? Check out our other cringe-worthy Morning After stories.]