Welcome to Great Moments in Drunken Hookup Failure, where we showcase four heartwarming true stories of drunken love gone horribly awry. Off we go.
I find myself in April at a typical college buddies' house party getting drunk off keg beer and jello shots. I hadn't been laid in four months. Luckily before the night was over I was told by a female friend (Allison) one of her friends who I didn't know very well (Nancy) had been eyeing me throughout the party. It was quite obvious she had quite a few too many jello shots herself, certainly more than me. Perfect, I knew it would be an easy hookup and possible lay if everything went right. I had been waiting four months to relive my abroad days and this was my chance.
We find ourselves in the house's basement/laundry room alone. Things are progressing and we end up making out on top of the washing machine. It doesn't take long for her to ask if I want to go back to her place.
Then Nancy proceeded to fall off the washing machine and face-plant onto the concrete floor.
Four months I had been waiting for this, and I see blood on her face and she immediately starts hysterically crying. Nancy calls for Allison and I know in that moment the chance to finally get some for the first time since being abroad is over.
I never saw her again the rest of junior year or senior year at all. If there's anything I learned, it's never to make out on top of the washing machine.
I was RAing summer school students over the summer between junior and senior years of college. The previous semester, I'd broken up with a cute perky blonde named Madison (name changed to protect the innocent) after two years of dating. Madison was also an RA on campus this summer, so we saw each other frequently at meetings. Gradually we got to talking again as friends, and eventually it came up that she hadn't seen a popular movie that was released the previous spring, so I suggested that we rent it and watch it in my room. I knew that this was a bad idea, but I hadn't gotten laid in a couple of months, so whatever.
Sure enough, she came over late one evening and we went through a couple of six packs watching our movie. As an RA, I had a giant suite which normally housed multiple students all to myself, and I'd pushed two twin beds together to effectively make a queen bed to sleep on, and we were watching the movie on that area, where there was plenty of room to get comfortable. By the end of the movie, we were full-on making out and clothes were coming off, headed for familiar territory between us. When we were nearly naked, she excused herself to go out into the living room and do God-knows-what, and I braced myself for the pleasure that was going to ensue. She was excited, and came back into the bedroom and jumped on top of me on the bed. Then everything went black.
The next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor between two twin beds with an awful headache, an unconscious Madison on top of me, and blood everywhere. I quickly pieced together what must have happened: the force of her landing split the beds apart, we both fell through, I hit my head on the floor and lost consciousness, and she hit her head against my head and lost consciousness and broke her nose. As I was cleaning up the scene, she regained consciousness and we laughed about it together, realizing that we were clearly meant to remain broken up.
So it was my sophomore year of college, and a friend of mine, Kyle, and I had just shot a bottle of Burnett's vodka in preparation for a house party we wanted to go to where we knew a couple people. One of the people we knew there was a girl named Jessica, and she had had sex with each of us before. We decided that maybe a tag team situation was a good idea. Neither of us had done it before, and we felt like we were good enough friends to grin and bear it. We were also ridiculously fucked up.
We arrive at the party and Jessica is already hammered and falling all over anything at the party with a wiener. This seemed like a positive development to us so we get busy with executing our plan. We start playing beer pong, drinking more, smoking more, and chatting up Jessica. After we get beat at pong and have to leave the table, we figure we have our window of opportunity. I get Jessica to come back to an empty bedroom with me and we start making out, awkwardly taking clothes off and rolling around on the bed like idiots. At one point, I suggest that we should let Kyle join. She's totally into the idea and I step out to signal to Kyle that we have a green light situation, and it's go time. He comes in, we get her naked, and we get to business. Things are going well for about three minutes when we get a knock on the door. Kyle kindly tells the person at the door to fuck off and we get back to the task at hand, namely double-teaming Jessica. Not even a second later, we hear, "GODDAMNIT KYLE I KNEW YOU WERE FUCKING IN THERE WITH THAT SLUT, GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE RIGHT NOW I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!".
Enter Kyle's girlfriend, Allison.
All three of us nearly shit ourselves, get dressed, and drunkenly huddle up to try and figure out some lame ass reason we were all in the bedroom, with the door locked, making sex noises. Somehow, when Kyle opens up the door, we come up with "we were just talking". Fucking brilliant. Obviously, she doesn't believe him. We all get yelled at by Allison, who was pretty scary at the time, if I remember right. I'm scared to death, drunk, and high with the worst case of blue balls imaginable, and I have no way to get home after Kyle leaves chasing Allison to her car. I end up walking to a friend's house nearby and passing out, lonely and unsatisfied. To top it off, the next day I got an MIP, 8 days away from my 21st birthday. Goddamnit.
I had just had my heart broken by a seriously awful guy who I found out had cheated on me (the other girl was the one who told me). He was out of town for winter break, so I sent him a long-overdue "fuck you, I'm done" e-mail and went out with a girlfriend of mine and some (slightly older) guy friends of hers, who were pretty cute. One was just back from Iraq and not totally my type, but after a few drinks, I guess I was into him. We all went bar hopping, stopping in for drinks and to dance at a few different bars. Apparently I got a little aggressive on the dance floor, which I don't really remember. (Allegedly I also asked him if he killed anyone in Iraq. Jeeez.) After a few hours of drinking, we went back to his place. We got in bed and were making out, etc. Clothes come off, and then he tells me to "lick his pussy." He was most definitely not a woman, but the request threw me, and he passed out right after. Super awkward ride home the next morning.