I met Josh* one night in October and thought he was cute. He was tall, had dark hair and eyes, a nice body and dressed REALLY well. (You know boy’s attire can be important, so don’t even deny it.) We met when I was pre-gaming in the dorm, so it wasn’t like I ever knew him when I wasn’t under the influence, and this tends to lead to bad decisions on my part. Very bad decisions.
Post-pre game with the girls (and him) we went out – a frat party, a house party, who really remembers? All I remember is what happened when I got back to the dorm, which I definitely wish I could forget. We ended up having a really drunken emotional talk (while watching Wedding Crashers) and I found out he was a virgin. Was. Until that night. Because all of a sudden, out of nowhere, we were hooking up. And then I swiped his V-Card.
This alone would have been bad enough, but afterwards we were sitting in his bed and he was all “Oh my god, I need to make some calls.” Thinking he was going to grab his phone and tell his roommate he could come back from his sexiling, I moved over to let him get out of bed. Only that wasn’t the call he was making.
He jumped out of his twin extra-long bunk, grabbed his phone and proceeded to call his best friend from home. I know this because this is how the conversation went:
“Dude! Dude! It’s Josh, man. I had to call you cause you’re my best friend… Guess what I just lost?!?”
Thankfully, the call ended after about 30 seconds. Unfortunately, that was longer than we spent having sex.
But then I saw him dialing again. Was there something he’d FORGOTTEN to tell him?! Nope – he just had another friend to call. This call was even worse than the last. He opened with the same “guess what I just lost” line, but apparently Bro-Love number two was too stupid to figure out what he meant.
“No, no!” he said. “It starts with a V and rhymes with birginity!”
I wish I was kidding. I was now semi-sober, listening to some d-bag call his friends from high school to tell him that he’d finally put the P in a V. I climbed out of bed and told him I had to pee, but really ran back up to my own room in shame.
If the calls to his friends weren’t bad enough, the next day he texted me: “What R we?”
I’ll give you guys hint: it starts with an N and rhymes with Othing.