Welcome to Great Moments in Drunken Hookup Failure, where we showcase three heartwarming true stories of drunken love gone horribly awry. Off we go.
So, a while back, I run into a casual acquaintance, Barry. This guy has been trying to hook up with me for a while but I have no interest. Anyway, he has a friend with him that I never met before - Jason - and he happens to be super good looking, tall, Princeton grad, the list goes on, and I decide I want to go home with him that night. He's a bit younger than me so it's not like I'm looking to date the kid, but I still wouldn't mind seeing him naked.
Anyway, as the night progresses the three of us are drinking, taking shots, generally having a good time, and the two of them invite me back to their apartment building (they both live in separate apartments in the same highrise). We go back to Barry's place...drink some more...and I am outside with Jason at one point and he basically lays it out there - "I am attracted to you, but my friend gets really jealous and insecure about me taking girls away from him, so you need to make up a reason to leave so he doesn't know what's going on. Meet me at apartment so-and-so." So I put my acting skills to good work, pretend like my sister is on the phone crying to me, and roll out of there.
Ten minutes later Jason rolls out and meets me at his apartment. We start hooking up, but he continues to get phone calls from Barry, demanding to know if Jason took me home. Jason says no, but there is a knock at the door, and Barry demands to come in. At this point I am wearing nothing but a thong. I go and hide in the bedroom closet immediately. A few minutes later I hear Barry walk into the room, and Jason says something along the lines of "Dude, she went home, I would never do that." Then I hear "Well then who's bra is that?" Of course, in the sudden rush I left my bra laying on the bed (and dress probably crumpled in a random corner). Jason says "oh some chick from yesterday" but I hear Barry start walking around, and I am silently praying to myself that he'll just leave. Of course, moments later - the closet door opens and I am standing there in my thong, a hand over each breast. All I can mutter is "Please close the door."
These 2 guys continue to bicker and I have to stay inside this closet and listen to them talk about how valuable their friendships are to each other, and how Jason would never let a girl come between them, and that I am just "some dumb slut" to Barry and he doesn't actually like me. Not the proudest moment in my life. Barry eventually leaves... I put on my clothes and do the walk of shame home while Jason is passed out, snoring.
It is the late 90's, and I am a college sophomore at a small private college in San Antonio. I'm staring at a note on the dining hall bulletin board that reads "HEY I'M KATE AND I NEED A RIDE TO HOUSTON ON 10-XX-XXXX! I PROMISE I'M NOT AN AXE MURDERER! CALL ME XXX-XXXX!"
Like half the other people at school, I'm also from Houston, and I am planning on going home that weekend to see my parents whom I deeply love and miss throw a house party because my parents will be away and hopefully break my 6-month dry spell that started when my high school girlfriend dumped me for her karate instructor. Maybe Kate (and her loads of hot friends that I'm suddenly 100% convinced that she has) wants to go to my party, too. I give her a call-but instead of agreeing to let me give her a ride, she wants to eat dinner together at the dining hall and make sure I'M not an axe murderer.
I meet Kate on the steps. She's a freshman that's barely been away from the nest for a month. Perhaps she's lonely. Oh, also, she's kinda mousy but she has gorgeous blue eyes and a great rack. Anyway, we talk about stupid homesick stuff like high school, how we fucking hate the Spurs and miss the Rockets, etc. Suddenly the conversation spins towards dorm living, and she wants to see what an upperclassman dorm looks like.
So here I am at 6 pm on a Tuesday walking this girl to my dorm in the rain. I pop open the door and we start watching Harold and Maude (goofy, but the only marginally appropriate movie I have in my VHS library) and making out. Things are getting fairly hot and heavy for a Tuesday night when my roommate shows up. Before I can say anything, Kate turns bright red and slips out without saying anything like he'd caught us doing the dirty. Which I should have taken as a warning sign, but I'm too amazed by the whole "making out with a girl from a dorm flier" happening to let anything spoil my mood.
Fast forward to Friday and the road trip. I have, of course, prepared a mix tape full of makeout music for the 200-mile trek back to my parents' vacant home. The hormones are going full blast by the time we pull onto I-10. We are rubbing each others' blue jeans like we're trying to start a fire, but she won't satisfy me any further because she's afraid we'll get in a wreck. I protest, but stop short. Besides, I've waited 6 months. I can wait till I get back to my parents' house in a couple of hours, right?
As soon as we get about 20 miles from my parents' place, she tells me she wants to go home immediately, "so her parents won't worry." And that's when the blueballs hit. It's a long, uncomfortable ride home alone, but hey, she'll be at my party tomorrow and then we can go crazy, right?
It is now Saturday night and my party's in full swing. My high school buddies show up with more local girls. One girl in particular, we'll call her Heather, has taken a shine to me. She keeps refilling my vodka and Sunkist and letting me lay down on the trampoline with my head in her lap. She even starts to kiss me, but stops when I start babbling, "I just know Kate's gonna come in and see us." She leaves at some point, but Vodkist and I aren't worried. Kate'll be here any minute, and…
I wake up around dawn Sunday morning, my orange lips plastered to the trampoline. My head's killing me and of course, Kate is nowhere to be found. While I'm cleaning up, my inner hungover detective kicks in and I start to put together all the warning signs Kate was throwing me and realize how fucking stupid I was to give Heather the brush.
Of course, I'm still committed to bringing Kate back to school. Her family stares at me silently while I help her load up. As soon as we turn the corner, I try to slip her the tongue, but she turns away. Finally she says "I'm sorry for what we did this week. I feel like I really need to cool off and stop dating guys for awhile, and start dating God." We spend the next 200 miles in silence, trying not to look at each other.
So it was my junior year of college, and my roommates and I had decided to spend Friday night up at the University of Maryland, going to various house parties and/or bars with a group of girlfriends of ours that we had become "friends" with over time. I use the term "friends" because the connection to this group of sorority girls was that the leader of the pack was an ex-gf of mine. She was DEF a "party girl" type personality, but aside from being slightly crazy, her group could usually be counted on to know some cool parties and be fun for a decent Friday night of house parties. Plus, I knew if I struck out all night I could more than likely talk my way into going home with her if I played it right.
So it was my 2 roommates, Joe and Jay, myself, my ex-gf "T", and a small group of 3 or 4 of her sorority girls. We were at some shitty off-campus house that you would expect to find at UMD...30 year old house, creaky pipes, dark and moldy basement, beer-pong, card games, kegs on each floor, people puking in the backyard, etc...a typical Friday night house party you could find at any other campus. Back then, my buddies and I liked to consider ourselves drinking game champions, as I am sure EVERY OTHER 20 year old college kid does.
We had been on the beer-pong table for a lot of games in a row, and we were holding off breaking the seal for fear of ruining our hot streak on the table, or losing our place completely. All the while we had been talking shit to every team we had beaten, and by this point the house was full of people who couldn't wait to either knock the shit-talking guys that no one knows off the table, or just beat our ass. At this point, the girls we were with started to get a little mouthy too, and my ex-gf "T" was just letting them go. Jay and Joe were giving them shit right back, so they claimed they would shut us out next round and make us do a naked lap. We agreed to the challenge, but only if we could break the seal first. They agreed to hold the table so we ran off to find a bathroom.
Of course, the bathroom has about 20 people waiting in line, but we didn't want to hold up the table, so we tried looking around the house for something to discreetly relieve our bladders in. We came across some old dishwashing detergent bottles, the real large family size kind, that had the tops cut off and were now like makeshift pitchers. We figured this was better than wetting our pants, since we were still trying to hookup with the sorority girls we were now challenging to a beer-pong/naked lap challenge. We filled up a couple of the jugs, put them back on the shelf in the corner, and ran back to the table. We didn't know it at the time, but the jugs we had JUST pissed in were the very same jugs people were using as beer pitchers to transport beer to the different areas of the house. Anyone who has ever drank a shitty keg also knows that your drunk beer piss and shitty keystone keg beer look about EXACTLY the same when poured into a jug.
Fast forward about 10 mins, the beer-pong has already ended because we kicked the girls' asses in almost straight shots. We are trying to get them to do their naked lap when they try one last, desperate attempt at saving face-a beer chugging challenge. We grab the pitcher on the table and they go to get their own. They return with THE VERY SAME JUG that we had pissed in about 10 mins earlier. The 3 of us start quietly freaking out and can't decide if we should warn them, and basically out ourselves to the ENTIRE house that we were the assholes peeing in the beer jugs and risk a massive ass-kicking, OR let them attempt to chug piss and laugh our asses off BUT forever ruin any chance of ever hooking up with them OR that sorority house ever again....we choose to watch them chug or pee.
To their credit, they did get about half the chug down before one of the girls literally started choking and projectile vomiting all over the pong table while one of the other girls realized that "keystone tastes like piss." At this point, the 3 of us couldn't contain it anymore and we started hysterically laughing, and the girls started to realize what was going on. As more and more dudes started rolling downstairs we decided an exit strategy was needed, so we grabbed one of the beer jugs (the CLEAN one we already had) and bolted out the back door and ran, while laughing our asses off, for at least a good mile to make sure we weren't going to get jumped. We roamed around College Park that night with our stolen jug of beer looking for another party to crash. We got "banned" from that sorority, and a bunch of the girls we had met through them HATED us from that night on. We ended up getting cockblocked from a few sororities because of it, but watching the girls chug the jugs of piss was well worth it.
It was? I find that hard to believe.