Welcome to Great Moments in Drunken Hookup Failure, where we showcase four heartwarming true stories of drunken love gone horribly awry. Off we go.
My favorite DHF stores always involve someone either getting lost or horribly injured, and today's lead is no exception.
A few years back a couple of buddies and I went to Nashville to see a old friend who had just became part owner of what seemed to be a pretty popular bar there. We had not seen this friend in a while and were pretty excited to get out of town and pretty much do the same things we did at home which was get wasted and see what happens. Friday night we started drinking heavily around 4 and soon after headed to the bar. Nothing special happened Friday except for the occasional drunk being thrown out of the bar (which was my friend thrown out by my other friend)and a few drunk shoving matches between some locals.
Not wanting to be hungover all day Saturday started off with a few bites of fast food breakfast and right into drinking. After watching our hometown college football team destroy a MAC team it was off to the bar again.
Later that night my friend introduced me to a girl who had worked for the bar and was a friend of his girlfriends. She was a cute girl also in her mid 20's and had the Tennessee accent that for some reason is a plus when your 20 beers deep. We hit it off and after a few shots we were the hammered guy and girl making out in the bar.
Around 2:30 we headed back to my friends house for some after hour beers in which everyone passed out except for us two. Living only a few streets over we decide to walk to her house after her telling me how "comfortable" her bed is. She decides that we will cut through a few yards seeing we would only have to hop one fence. Being the drunken gentleman I was, I jump the fence and tell her I will help her over. Holding her under her arms I tell her to jump on the count of 3 and I will lift her over. Clueless to my Herculean drunken state or her impressive vertical jump, I throw her over my head and she lands behind me. I turn around to find her face scraped to hell and her wrist mangled. Once again being the gentleman I am I offer to stay over and make sure she's "ok". But she declines and says she is now tired.
Drunk and realizing I had just screwed up a sure thing, I forget where my friends house is and it takes me 2 hours to find it. When actually it's three streets over. Arriving to his house around 6 I am told that I fall asleep standing up against a entertainment center.
The next day my friend's car breaks down and we have to stay another day. Being scared of the monster hangover that will ensue we head out to a another bar. Later that night we run into my little "highriser" at another dive bar with scratches on her face and a cast on wrist.
One glorious spring semester, the gods blessed me with the most beautiful co-ed that these (then) 22-year-old eyes had ever seen for a history study partner. She was taken. Yet that did not deter my resolve to at least get friendly with her, in the hopes that, theoretically, any affinity I could manufacture could come to fruition if a breakup between said girl and boyfriend ever occurred.
By divine intervention, the boyfriend allegedly got drunk and cheated on her. She called me the next day crying, seeking counsel and comfort. Luckily this conversation took place via phone, for I'm not sure how much solace she would have taken in seeing me fist-pump around my house when learning of the news.
The next week or so, she became extremely flirty. Sure enough, at a happy hour near the weekend, she whispered that she wanted to get away from the crowd and back to the tranquility of her place. Jackpot.
Once we get to her room, she decides to throw on Pandora to enhance the peripheral mood. The song was "When We Were Young" by The Killers. I know this because, as I was working my way down her neck, I felt a warm, salty discharge begin to rain on my forehead. Before I could even inquire into the matter, she howled, "THIS SONG REMINDS ME OF MY BOYFRIENDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!"
I ever seen Brandon Flowers on the street, I'll have no qualms kicking that man in the nutsack.
So it was summer after my senior year and a group of my friends and I went to St. Thomas for a senior trip. We were staying at my buddies house he has there and honestly had the setup, a big house with unlimited booze. With us was a handful of girls we had graduated with, one being my girlfriend, along with her brother who happened to be a good friend of mine too. The only downside of the whole thing was that her parents were there because they were essentially funding the whole thing.
About two days into the trip, we had spent the whole day drinking on the beach, knocking down mixed drinks and local beers. After a few hours of this we're all beyond hammered and decide to move the party back to the pool at the house. Being shitfaced, my girlfriend and I decide to move things back to the room while everyone swims in the pool. We move it to the shower in the room where all the guys were bunking for the week, including her brother. We start going at it in the shower and within a few minutes I'm in and going at it. About the same time there's a knock on the bathroom door and I can hear that the guys are back. I didn't think this would be a problem until one puts his shoulder into the door and busted right the hell in. Within seconds her brother's in the bathroom and rips back the curtain only to see his sister and me ass naked, hard-on and all. He then proceeds to rip her out of the shower and throw her into the middle of the room full of all my buddies still naked as hell. To top it off, he makes such a big scene that her parents come over and the four of them erupt into World War III, all fighting about me and her in the shower. Meanwhile, I'm awkwardly standing to the side not really knowing whether I should chime in or curl up into a ball for the next seven days.
Needless to say it made for one of the most awkward couple of days of my life. My buddy kept trying to fight me, I was scared to touch my own girlfriend in front of her family, and I was terrified to make any sort of eye contact with her dad. We still had a blast but I know her parents were thrilled when we finally broke up.
The past summer I worked at an isolated rocky mountain resort that also offered staff accommodation. The accommodations were pretty basic, usually with four people to a two room townhouse, or two people in university style cabin dormitories all located within a couple hundred feet of one another. Being primarily a summer resort, the majority of people who came in were students, while the rest of the staff were your fairly stereotypical snowboarders. Needless to say, the possibilities for alcohol abuse and casual hookups were not only rampant, but the norm.
One night late in the summer I came home from the bar to my house in the hopes of after partying only to find my roommate watching a movie with his girlfriend and her best friend. Being in no shape to hang out with them, I restocked and ended up in a nearby townhouse and started talking to a girl I had hooked up with earlier in the summer. I suggested we go to her room and she agreed where we started making out for about two minutes before her roommate came in, told me I had to get out, she needed to be up for work in the morning, did I realize how drunk I was etc.
We complied but I was left in a predicament, as I had tried all summer to hook up with my roommates girlfriends best friend with varying degrees of success, but was sure bringing this girl back would put an end to it. I said my roommate also had to work in the morning, and she suggested we go to the forest behind our houses which I was enthusiastic about.
We ended up on what I imagine was a loading dock to a long abandoned barn (picture attached) with her on top. I went to readjust and go on top where I felt what I thought was an awful splinter in my right hand from the wood underneath us, but it was pitch black and being blind drunk I thought little of it. A couple minutes later though I started to go soft. I explained to her that this doesn't ever happen, but I was really drunk and so it made a bit of sense. We tried to get back going but to no success, so I threw in the towel and suggested we call it a night.
Coming out of the forest and into the light I realized exactly what had happened. I had sliced an inch gash into the meaty part of my palm on an exposed nail so badly the fat was hanging out. I looked at her then me as we both realized I had bled out all over both of us. Looked like a murder scene. I apologized profusely, which she accepted with a queasy look on her face and said she had to go home. Shockingly, I never hooked up with her again but do have a scar on my hand that makes me laugh every day.