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Posts Tagged ‘random hook up’

So I’m going through a dry patch post boyfriend.  Ever since I started having sex when I was 15 the longest I had gone w/o it was 2 months (note: on the spectrum I’d consider myself more “serial monogamist” than “slut” – however, I suppose there’s a lot of grey in between).

So when Spartan told me that she had the perfect guy for me my first thought was SLUMP BUSTER.  Spartan’s description of Tad: 30, amazing condo (good – since becoming a homeowner, I’d noticed the boys grow uninterested when learning about my latest and greatest accomplishment of buying a condo – of which I am, rightfully, quite proud of and please go fuck yourself if you find that intimidating) hot lawyer (apparently he looks like a Chase Crawford/Zach Affron mix).  He liked to party, loved sports and took his career seriously.  Serious soul mate potential.  Yes, it was a bit concerning when Spartan told me he cheated on his ex-girlfriend all the time… (wait, why was she thinking he was the perfect guy for me again?) but what guy doesn’t have flaws?

Ok, so Spart did not lie, Tad could be on the cover of Teen Beat or Seventeen.  But he has that cocky vibe that lights my sass on fire and I don’t give him the time of day.

I am the kind of girl that gets very horny after a couple drinks… and then a few drinks later forgets all about sex and just wants to dance.  I had crossed that hump. Sparty and I went off to Denny’s – the bar that is closest to our apartment (it is critical to go to a bar that you can log roll/crawl home from if the need arises).

It’s a little hazy how it happened but Sparty and I are on the stage dancing with tambourines and singing “I want you to want me” (it was 9 PM and somebody had to get the dance party going).  As to our singing abilities – well, we don’t have any.  What we lacked in tone we made up in with our sexy moves. 

While I like to imagine Tad was watching because he was impressed w/ our said moves, I am pretty sure he was waiting for me to get drunk enough to succumb to his beauty (and my dry spell) and go home w/ him.

Spartan took off and I was left having a dance party by myself. When all of a sudden Tad jumps up, grabs my arm and begins to swing me around.

“mother fuckin ow Tad!!”  I say as he “spins” me. I think I just dislocated my shoulder a little bit.  Thankfully next swing around all seems well again…. It could have just been the obscene amount of vodka I have consumed that makes me feel that way.  We actually dance pretty well together.

Fuck we are tumbling under a table.  Lucky for bi-standers I am wearing a dress.  A few girls give me a look of disgust.  Do they not realize they’d be so much cooler if they’d just smile and laugh – maybe help me up? And then maybe we’d be friends and they could dance alongside me and oh by the way you would look a lot cooler if you were friends with the crazy tambourine playing, ill singing, swing dancing chick under the bar table?

It’s time to go as evidenced by the dirty looks from the door guys and the fact that I am under a table, dress up, completely ham-boned and need to be up in the office tomorrow morning.  We leave and have the best make out session I have had in sometime. I am desperate for him to do me but that’s so not ladylike on “date 1” (and calling it a date might just be a stretch – although under Kat’s revised criteria this qualifies as one… and who am I to tell Kat that a random Thursday shack is not dating?  There were drinks and dancing involved after all).

And the hot semi-naked man I awoke to in the morning. Lucky for me, the contractors had finally installed our shower/tub the day before.  Cus Tad had to go back to court.  I wonder if the jury noticed he wore the same clothes 2 days in a row. I sat in my post make-out glow when I hear a deep stern voice that does not resemble 5’2” sweet bubbly Heidi: ROOMATE, A WORD, PLEASE.”

Oh shit.  I quickly look in the kitchen for evidence that I was loud – cabinet doors open, alcohol out, oven on, perhaps a pizza strewn somewhere, music on. Nothing.

“WHO THE FUCK WAS IN MY BED LAST NIGHT?”  huh? How the f was I supposed to know? Heidi had a boyfriend, Bonernose, but she hadn’t been the most faithful as of late.  And Heidi wasn’t the only one who couldn’t stay in one person’s bed.

Apparently Tad had woken up to go the bathroom and stumbled back into the bedroom… the wrong bedroom.   Heidi is blind without contacts and apparently an unidentifiable naked stranger hopped in bed and began spooning her(did I just get a little jealous that Tad and Heidi fake cuddled? So inappropriate). “So I am laying there and my heart is beating so hard and all I can think about is oh my god a construction worker used his key on our apartment and he is going to rape me.”

They spooned for 30 second before Tad noticed and casually said “Woops, wrong bedroom”.

While the slump has not been busted, strides have been made forward and there is a boy out there that has christened our shower, and cuddled in both of our beds and all in the past 6 hours. Think of what he could do w/ more time?  Hope has been restored and I am confident that I will, in fact, get laid again. And as a side bar, may I just add that the $900 upgrade to the glass shower doors was sooo money well spent.

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