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What exactly was I thinking last night? What was she thinking last night? Hmmm. I could wait around or wake her up and get an answer but I think the best thing to do would be grab my shirt and get started on the walk of shame. It's early enough so I will beat the other mistake makers from last night and avoid sidewalk traffic which is good because I feel a lot of head scratching will be taking place on this walk. Alright, grab my shirt (where the hell is it!?) and check to see if she has Pop-Tarts. Why does the girl always has a box or two of Pop-Tarts in her cupboard? Oh wait, there were those instances where I had a Fruit Roll-Up or a granola bar for breakfast, but a reserve box of Pop-Tarts is good form. Pop-Tart in hand and shirt on, I head for the door and stroll to my apartment. It's the same path I have taken a million times to get home but it looks different. It's early, the Night of the Living Dead parade has yet to flood the streets and this blueberry Pop-Tart is really hitting the spot. Last stop is CVS and next stop is the couch. Mindless television, homework, dinner and meet up with friends to share my adventure from the previous night, proceed to kick myself a few times, shake it off, and get on with the night. A new night with the possibility of all kinds of new mistakes, however, I think the next time I wake up with the next Miss What's-Her-Face (I swear I know her from somewhere) will be a long time from now, 'long time' being relative. Maybe I should call that girl from last night tomorrow? Nah.
That was spring of my sophomore year. I remember because the walk through campus that morning was really nice. It was the first warm weekend but the kind warm where you know it's not a fluke. Flowers were blooming, teachers were heading to offices, bums were waking up on benches, a few people jogging. A really nice spring morning. The best thing was the quiet. It was kind of rare considering there were 50,000 undergrads which is why I always liked to avoid the other shame walkers on Saturday mornings. Things could get crowded quickly and worst of all, I would have to hear girls talk on their cell phones explaining how much they regret last night while also hearing guys brag (and most likely fabricate) what they did last night. It's a pretty bad scene. Those nights and mornings always made me feel out of it. Shame mixed with a bit of surprise and a hint of satisfaction. Too much for me to really think over something that will go nowhere so I am left just shrugging and moving on. I did make a point to just stop the random hook-ups my senior year mostly because I had other things to think about and also because I just decided it's not for me. I gave it an honest try and it didn't take. It does work for some people, but I am just not the Larry Dallas type. I have friends who can't wait to tell me about what guy or girl they took home the other night. I will say that girls do have better stories when it comes to this. They really don't hold anything back and stick to the point where as the guys tend to get that James Frey vision where yeah, I am not doubting it happened but I am really doubting that it happened on your fire escape that is right by the police station which is behind your house and two cops were watching you. From a guy that has found himself in some strange situations (she did have lovely bondage equipment) I have to say yeah, I'm sure it happened but come on. Still, they are good stories. I can't say that I haven't had any strange and confusing make out sessions though:
I had been in Chicago maybe a good four months by this point. It was right around Halloween and I was watching the last of the Tigers playoff games with a friend at Sports Corner. The place was pretty crowded because of Halloween and on top of that, it's Wrigleyville on a weekend. My friend was going on about the Tigers as if this is the first I had heard about him and his family being die hard Detroit fans. Anyway, I decided I did not want to hear all the reasons (for the billionth time) about why they love the Tigers so I instead decide to go buy a round from the bar. When I stood and turned this girl who had been dancing with some friends behind our table was coming right at me. I extend my right hand and caught her right hand. Then I did this dance spin (I took three phys. ed dance classes in college. Such a well-rounded education) where our arms go up, she goes under, completes a full spin, and I continue walking in the direction of the bar (no spin needed on my part). Now she is right where I was standing and holding our table with my friend looking at her. They exchange pleasantries while I am en route to the bar. And she is still standing there. Alright, I will buy her a beer. I go back to the table and wind up talking to her for a while. She seems alright, nice enough, good looking. She invites me to a party but I decline the invite and get her number instead. Side note: In 2006 sports news, the Tigers blew it and I had the pleasure of saying 'told you they suck!' for a year.
So that Wednesday I get a call from the girl and we make plans to go out on Saturday. We went to dinner and then wound up at some bar in Wrigleyville because one of her friends was having a party. It was one of those $10 wrist bands all you can drink deals. Well, at the end of the party I find myself doing some serious making out while we wait for a cab. We make it back to her place and I am rounding second base on her couch but I stop: I really need to use her bathroom. It was the 10 bucks all you can drink party and I had really been putting the bathroom on hold on account of the make out. I have never been to her place and the only light on is the lamp in the living room. Her directions to the bathroom were pretty vague; I asked and she pointed. I make my way in the dark and find the bathroom. I remember saying "hurry, hurry, hurry" as this visit was taking a longer than usual. Finally I finish, wash my hands and make my way through the darkness back to the living room but this time the lamp is off. I'm not even sure she's still in the living room so I start looking around but then I notice a silhouette on the couch. She didn't leave. Good thing the shades are up and the street light is on. I sit down and the make out continues. This time I notice her hair feels different and so do her lips. Maybe I was distracted before but I could have sworn her hair didn't feel this thick and her lips moved differently while kissing. I figure I must be really tired and tell her that I should probably head out but of course I'll call this week. She cocked her head a bit which struck me as odd but it's dark so I can't really see any expression. On the train ride home I was looking at my hands and thinking. Straight and thin, right? Curly and thick? Maybe it was straight and thick? It did snow tonight so her hair could react to moisture and get kind of curly, right? I don't know but the whole thing just kept bugging me. The following Tuesday I sent her a text asking if she wanted to hang out but more importantly, so I could get to the bottom of this. A minute later I get a call from her and the conversation went like this:
Heartbroker: "Hey, what's up? How are you?"
Her: "I'm fine."
HB: "That's cool. Hey, do you wanna hang out this weekend?"
Her: "Did you make out with my roommate?"
HB: "Isn't your cousin your roommate?"
Her: "Yes! And you made out with her!"
HB: "I made out with your cousin!? Oh, that totally explains a lot. Seriously, I feel a sense of relief right now."
Her: "What? What does it explain?"
HB: "Oh nothing. I just noticed that your hair got really thick all of a sudden and your lips were kind of different but duh, it was your cousin on the couch when I got out of the bathroom. I thought maybe you do something weird to your hair before bed, or like moisture and the weather..."
Her: "Yeah...I was in bed waiting for you!"
HB: "That was your cousin?"
Her: "I can't believe you did that!"
HB: "Huh? First off it was dark and I have no clue where your bedroom is located and second, I can't believe your cousin just makes out with guys that sit next to her on the couch, no questions asked. You know, stranger in your living room and she just makes out. That's just really...."
Her: "You're an asshole!"
HB: "I'm really sorry but it is kinda funny, you know. I mean it's like, I don't know, pretty funny. Like if we were on Judge Joe Brown explaining this I think..."
Her: "I can't believe you did that!"
HB: "Oh man, that was totally your cousin! Wow! I thought it wasn't you but didn't know for sure. Really, it has been bugging me since I left on Saturday."
Her: "Yeah, well she just told me about it yesterday and you never called me!"
HB: "Well, I mean I have been busy trying to solve this mystery but case closed. Plus I had band practice and was busy with a few things so I figured I would call today. Anyway, you busy tonight?"
Her: "You're an asshole!"
HB: "Oh come on, how was I supposed to know? This weekend maybe... hey, hello? You there...."
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The Past is History and We All Have History:
First off, let me start out by saying this is one of those shameful hookups for which I am totally grossed out about. This happened about four years ago. That was the very last time I did anything like that. I met this guy on Craigslist and had a one night stand...
...not one of my more shining moments but it happened. I know this means nothing, at least not to me, but we had several conversations prior to meeting. The subject of sex came up but not in detail. For instance, what are you into? We met, talked and had sex. He did something to me that I for some reason after 4 years cannot seem to get out of my head. I don't think about it like I use too, but I can say this, lesson learned. When it came time for him to cum he spit in my mouth. This was a complete turn on for him. For me, I was fit to be tied; I was done, way done. I understand that there are people who are into to that and that’s fine but I would have liked to be warned about this. I guess that’s what I get for having a one night stand. I know for me and this is a certainty, but that's a wrap when it comes to that. I realize looking back it could have been much worse. It's just not my thing.