It was the first party in our new house. Our boxes weren’t even unpacked yet, but our new neighbors (who all happened to be very cute boys) were having people over so we thought we’d join in too. I rifled through my duffle bags to find a low-cut shirt and a pair of jeans to wear, dabbed on a bit of makeup and was ready to mingle with my new friends.
Fast forward 3 hours and I’m drunk and wading in a kiddie pool (that just happened to show up on my porch) with a guy I didn’t know.
“Uh, I’m gonna go downstairs and dry off….” I slurred as I attempted to stand up.
“Want some help?” He responded. Always being the one to have to work for booty, I was excited by how easy he was making this.
“Sure.” I wanted to be demure, mysterious and sexy, which I’m sure I was as I tripped out of the kiddie pool, thus exposing my thong to the entire porch. Still, he followed me inside and down to my basement lair. My bed was covered in boxes and clothes that I attempted to seductively brush aside. And was unsuccessful. I ended up with a giant paper cut up my arm and 15 broken picture frames that dumped out of a box as it hit the ground.
But I wouldn’t let a little glass stop me. I took that boy, grabbed his face, and dragged him onto the bed. We were makin’ out for a bit and as I turned my head to let him kiss my neck (droooool) I looked out the small window over my bed. It faced the driveway where the party was going down. And it had no drapes. I was a bit nervous and paranoid that everyone could see in, but then I realized that the lights were off in my room, so no one would be able to see a thing.
Things began to heat up and before I knew it my underwear was across the room and this boy was taking me to Happy Town. I was getting really lost in the moment when – BAM – my door swings open, the lights flip on and my roommate and gay best friend walk in.
“And this is Lauren’s roo- OH MY GOD!” My roommate, giving a house tour, stopped. And stared.
“OH MY GOD! GET OUT!” I screamed, placing my left hand over my vajay and my right hand over my right boob. Why that one was more important to cover than the left I’ll never know.
“I’m sorry – I didn’t know you were in here. Joe wanted a tour of our new house and I thought you were outside!”
“STOP EXPLAINING AND GET OUT!”
“Sorry! It’s my fault,” Joe chimed in. He and my roommate both blocked their eyes and began to leave the room. Before he slammed the door, though, Joe screamed, “YOU LOOK REALLY SKINNY!”
When the door slammed, I looked at the boy and we both started to laugh. Awkwardly. I wasn’t really sure what to do – there is no jumping back into things after an interruption like that (no matter how skinny I looked). Especially, as we soon noticed, when the lights are still on and everyone on the driveway is peaking in the window. Pointing. And laughing.
And my left boob is pointing right back.