Welcome to Great Moments in Drunken Hookup Failure, where we showcase three heartwarming true stories of drunken love gone horribly awry. Off we go.
One thing before we get to today's stories. If you're using an alias for your hookup (And you should), don't bother with the whole "Let's call her X" setup. Just use the alias and move on.
Back in my undergraduate days I randomly got invited to an athlete party, the occasion being a competition at my school that had drawn teams from all over the region.
And I wasn't disappointed – it was like a casting call for a remake of Baywatch. One girl, Lisa, was clearly smarter than your average jock, and she wasn't even really drinking. Instead, she was giving people grief when they said stupid shit which, given the nature of the party, was pretty much everyone all the time. A light bulb went off - my nerdiness might actually be an asset here. So I started seeing her smartass remarks and raising her, and before you know it good golly we were actually hitting it off. Then, of course I pushed it too far. She said she was from Tunisia, and perhaps due to all the liquid courage I had been tossing down, I decided to pretend that I knew a lot about Tunisia when in fact I knew nothing. Which judging from her reactions I think she figured out pretty quickly. This was the pre-smartphone era, so there would be no covert Googling to save my overly ambitious and intoxicated ass. But a quick change of topic and we were back to the races.
Flash forward a while and, miracle of miracles, we are back at my place and I am clearly about to hook up. I was sharing a room but my buddy who had sole possession of a bedroom but was, additional miracle, out of town that week. So I slide the action smoothly into his room, making sure to leave a little mood lighting on so I could fully appreciate Lisa's body. Which I'm sure I would have, except right over my buddy's bed was a giant map of the world. Worse, it's one of those satellite views, so no labels. As Lisa is taking off her shirt, she catches sight of map. She stops with the shirt, I freeze. She turns, takes dead square aim, looks me straight in the eyes: "So … where's Tunisia on this map?"
I can normally BS with the best of them, but apparently not after that many beers. The look on my face said it all. No clue. Busted. All miracles already used up. Somehow, that killed the mood and the moment. I don't think Lisa was much for random hookups, so that's all it took. She bailed for the couch and was gone by the time I woke up, headed back to her school. We stayed in touch some, but nothing ever came close to happening again. Last I heard she was working in Africa which, by the way, is where Tunisia is.
To this day I still cringe every time I hear the word "Tunisia," so the whole Arab Spring news cycle really depressed the shit out of me.
This one took place this last Fourth of July.
Me and my roommate had some friends in town for the fourth, we lived a few blocks from the beach in Santa Monica. All of our friends wanted to have a big beach gathering/day party. We decided to haul a canopy, coolers, and chairs down pretty early in the morning. I had been working nights and being on my normal schedule, I woke up around 1pm and made my way to the party. When I arrived the guys were pretty drunk and had some female companions. In a rush to catch up I started putting down the fadorades we had scattered through the coolers (SM strictly enforces the no-alcohol rule).
Next thing you know we are all playing football and I had gained the interest of one of the young ladies at the party. We begin a great make-out / petting session in the ocean. As the day goes on people start to slowly leave, I was in no shape to help pack up any of the gear so I just stated that I was going to take off on my bike. The girl was down to come with me and happened to be on her bike as well. It turns out she lived quite a bit closer than I did so we decided that we should go back to her place. At this point I'm pretty stoked, I'm having a good day, woke up, got a little drunk, and now about to get laid! We make it back to her apartment complex and I don't have a bike lock since I had locked it to my buddy's at the beach. She tells me she always keeps her bike in her apartment on the 2nd floor and I should do the same.
So I am at the base of the stairs while she is walking up. All of a sudden I look away, hear a bit of a scream, and turn to see her falling violently down the stairs alongside a bouncing bike. She is on the ground at the end of the stairs and all I see is a kickstand INSIDE her leg, yes the kickstand had protruded inside her thigh. She then says everything is OK. I think we need to go to the ER, instead she has me help her up, take her upstairs, clean the wound and put her to bed. End of the greatest Fourth of July ever.
It's New Years Eve, and being from Kansas City with friends who aren't 21 means you go to Lawrence to party, because most bars are easy to get into. I start the night pre-gaming with a couple of friends at an apartment and then go to another girls house to drink more before going out. Right when I arrive, I run into this girl I went to high school with but didn't know too well. From the get go she is all over me.
We eventually leave for the bars, and this girl and I are the last ones in the group and start falling behind. The bars are pretty far away and it was raining, so halfway there she just turns and asks me if I want to go back to her house. Obvious yes, as I would rather hook up with her and avoid racking up a tab at some shit bar.
When we get back it is like 11:40, and my plan was to make moves once midnight hit. We start drinking, and I notice that she has Chiefs Bud Light team beer cans. That weekend the Chiefs were playing the Broncos, and being an unabashed Tebow-hater I thought it would be alright to make an off base comment about how awful he is at playing football. I think I even went so far as to say I was better than him because at least I wasn't still a virgin. As it would turn out, this girl is very religious and went to Tim Tebow's high school so he is hands down her favorite player. She doesn't take my joke too well and is noticeably angry. She just tells me she's going up stairs for a second, and I grab another beer. I end up sitting on her couch watching Sports Center through New Years and leave for a different party when she doesn't come back down for 20 minutes. At least the next day KC wins 7-3 and I now have an answer for how my life would be different if Tim Tebow were aborted…