Welcome to Great Moments in Drunken Hookup Failure, where we showcase four heartwarming true stories of drunken love gone horribly awry. Off we go.
A few years ago when I was a undergrad at college I was at my frat one night drinking. We were having an "exchange", which for those who might call it something else, is where a sorority comes over to the frat and you have a party with just frat guys and sorority chicks. So things are going well, I'm drunk and start dancing with this girl I met that night. Dancing leads to making out, and making out turns into drunken groping and this continues for about a half hour before the bus that brought the sorority girls came back to pick them up. She said that her sorority had the rule that everyone that went out on the bus had to return on the bus, a rule which I knew a couple of sororities had, so she gave me her number and said to text her later that night so we could met back up.
Thinking I am obviously going to hook up with her that night I stumble back to my dorm and text her. While texting her, I log on to Facebook and see she has friended me. I then went off drunkenly looking at Facebook photos for five minutes. She texts me back that a cab is coming in twenty minutes and I am thinking I am golden for that night. Being slightly more sober by this point, I try to search for her profile on Facebook to make sure her visit is not being completely caused by my beer goggles. Facebook keeps messing up though, and it is not letting me search. Every time I enter her name and click the button next to it, nothing happens. I try this like ten times before I give up, and drunkenly think, "Facebook is broken".
After about a half hour she had not arrived, so I texted her but she did not respond. Thinking she may have fallen asleep before the cab got her, (it was like 3:30am at this point) I fall asleep myself and assume I will be able to hook up with her another night. The next morning I wake up to texts from my friends saying things along the lines of "you are creepy man". I am confused, but go about my morning. I log onto Facebook and discover what they were talking about. This was right after Facebook added statuses, and being drunk, thought it was the search bar. My status update was just the girls from the previous night name about ten times, often within a couple seconds of each other. To make matters worse about half of them had the caps lock on. This clearly made me look like I was beyond obsessed, and potentially a serial killer. Found out later she had seen that, rightfully thought it was creepy as hell, and that's why she never came over. Those "We want the old Facebook" groups are stupid as hell, but every time there is a minor change to the site, I think about how Zuckerberg and Co's innovation screwed me over that night.
Now THAT is a great hookup fail. God, I just want to throw a blanket on you and feed you soup.
My girlfriend of six months at the time, Josie, and I were out drinking at a bar with a group of friends about a year ago. It was a fairly large group, some of my friends and their girlfriends, some of our mutual friends, etc. Josie isn't too crazy about some of my friends' girlfriends, and I think the feeling may be mutual, so female tension is typical on these kinds of nights. We're out for a few hours when Josie decides she wants to go back to my place and tells me she's in the mood to give me a blowjob. We had been having sex for several months, but I hadn't gotten any fellatio despite extraordinary efforts, so I was pretty stoked.
We get to my place, making out, clothes coming off, and she turns out to be truly skilled with her mouth (and hands). We're about 2 minutes into nirvana when she finds and removes a long blond strand of hair from her mouth that she figures came from my junkular region. I should point out that Josie is a brunette, and that I, too, have dark hair, and that this hair was about a foot long and most definitely blond. Also notable here is that one of my friend's flirty girlfriends has long blond hair. Josie looks at me and is baffled, but she continues blowing me. About a minute later (she was probably drunkenly brooding while going down on me), she stops and is like 'What the fuck is that? Where did this come from? What were you doing tonight when you weren't with me?' ( I had only left her to smoke and piss earlier that night.) I honestly explain that I had no idea, not even the slightest, where it came from and how it got down there, but she wasn't buying it, even though it was the truth. She grabs her clothes, quickly dresses and storms out of my bedroom and leaves my house. I chase after her throwing on some jeans and talk her off the ledge, but there was to be no more action that night, and I had to wait three more months before she would go down on me again. To this day I have no idea how a blond hair got down there.
But Gil Grissom does.
/dons infrared goggles
So this happened to me in college. My best friend was one of the biggest pot dealers in the central florida college area, and he had people going in and out of his apartment all day all night. One day this girl Ellen came over that was very cute and I made my acquaintance with her. Now Ellen was a vegan and started talking about all this Vegan crap she eats like tofu tacos and I of course pretended like that was the coolest thing since sliced bread. I of course interjected that she should cook for me sometime so I can try it, that "sounds delicious!" So she took my phone number down and proceeded to leave the apartment with her weed.
That night I get a phone call from her asking if I wanted to come over and she would cook for me. I said sure and after stuffing my face with as much real food as I could, went over to her apartment and ate tacos that were worse than taco bell's. We drank a lot of wine which probably helped the awful garbage go down my gullet easier. After we finished, we went to her room and snuggled on her bed for a couple hours watching movies. We held hands, wrapped our arms around each other and did everything but hook up. Finally I got the balls to put the move on and leaned in to kiss her. Now let me just say that I am the type of person to wait until it is very clear by either body language or direct verbal authorization to kiss a girl. That goes back to my rejection issues I have discussed in a life ime of therapy but that is for another day. So I touch her lips and she backs up like "whoa!" If I remember correctly her exact words were "I'm sorry, I can't do this." I responded with something along the lines of "what's wrong? Is everything ok?" She gave me the obligatory response of "I can't do this to you, you are too nice of a guy." Uh....ok.
Then she told me I could stay over if I wanted since it was already like 3am. I wasn't about to drive home in the shape I was in so she snuggled back up to me and I fell asleep. Such a tease! But it gets better. I wake up around 6am to some motion in the bed and find her gyrating next to me....asleep! She is mumbling something and starts to speak more clear. I then hear, "take me on the bed Paul." And then a couple seconds later I hear "now do me on the Camaro" which is the type of car I drove, jet black with loud exhaust. Finally she sums it up with "now get me some gummy worms." I woke her up after that and when she saw my face, it was like a deer in headlights. She told me she just had the craziest dream about me and I told her, "I know!" We fell back asleep for a couple more hours, parted ways that afternoon never to speak again, although after hearing her sleep talk, I tried to call her numerous times to get her in to my car.
About 4 years ago while I was a sophomore in college, I went back to my hometown in Central Jersey for Halloween. That night a bunch of my friends and I met up at one of my buddies house at Rutgers and started drinking. Now if you've ever been to Rutgers (aka STD capital of the world), you'd know that on any given night you had a good chance of hooking up with some random. Halloween is like the golden night to hookup, so I start getting sloppy and praying that I find a slutty nurse to take care of all my ills. By the way, I am dressed as Gary Busey from that infamous mug shot. Hair is messed up, tie dye shirt is ripped, dirt and blood stains everywhere. I figure I am golden.
In walks, Daisy Dukes. Tall, attractive, big boobs. My dream girl. Oh yea, and she was dressed as Daisy Dukes. Her roommate at the time dating one of my friends, so we all start talking, and me and Daisy Dukes are really hitting it off. We all decide it is party time and head off to a frat party. When there we grab a few drinks, flirt a bit more then head to the dance floor. We start dancing and before I know it I am pinned against the wall and we are making out ferociously. I say a silent prayer and think to myself how awesome this is.
Anyways, things start winding down at the party and the roommate girl suggests we go back to their place. WIN! So we start driving back to their place. Twenty minutes later, I am like where the fuck is this place, and they finally mention that they go to a school called St. Johns in New York. So we are driving out of state, and apparently quite far, but it is all worth it because I have Daisy Dukes in my arms.
We get back to their place and their are a few heads passed out on all the couches. No worries, we head straight to her bedroom and hit the bed. We start getting busy, and a few minutes later, as I am about to hit that blissful moment, the girl backs up and starts bawling. Not just a few tears, but like a waterfall of sobs streaming down her eyes. I am like holy shit wtf did I do. So we completely stop, she gets dressed and then explains that she can't do this because she broke up with her boyfriend the day before and is not emotionally ready to do this. She tells me she doesn't want me sleeping in her bed, so she leads me out to the living room, where I get a nice comfortable spot on the hardwood floors. To top it all off, her roommate and my friend start going at it, so I can't even sleep they are all so loud. So here I am stuck in NY, many miles from home, curled up in a fetal position on the hardwood floor, trying to get to sleep while my friend is getting laid. God must be laughing it up, up there.
Speaking of undeserved porn fetishes, I demand more denim cutoffs fetish Tumblrs.