Tuesday, 14 June 2011

• The Most Dangerous Cocktail

  

  So, I'm heading off to the airport in a couple of hours to rendezvous with my family in a distant city 15 hours away for a random family vacation. I haven't even touched my suitcase yet and here I am writing my blog. I hope this is okay.

  Anyways, because I am leaving the country for two weeks, somehow my body started sending out pheromones to all men to come and run at me while I'm here. Sadly the pheromones also meant  a nice, healthy period to send me on my way.

  I had a really nice date with Alan (pseudonym) this weekend (I am so proud of myself for us only having kissed so far), but before that I had the most twilight-zoney weird date ever.

  My friend Lou (pseudonym) invited me out for a drink and I had an inkling it was a continuation of the last time we hung out. Like before, as it neared the time for the last train, I tried to leave, but he tried to get me to stay. I took a long look at him, saw his all-too-cute dimpley smile, and agreed. Also, he had started to venture into whoa-wait-a-sec conversation territory ("I've always liked you but you always had other people around…", "how about you be my girlfriend…", "I love you…") and I thought it might be good to test chemistry.

  No way we were going to have sex cause I was on my period anyways! I was flattered and seriously considering his words, but also he was crazy drunk and I was not. One of my dating weapons: no matter how hard I try, I don't get that drunk (if anything, I get sick first… weak stomach).

  On the walk home, I realized he was much drunker than I thought, and he kept grabbing me around the neck and giving me a big kiss on random parts of my face as we walked to his place in the rain. When we ended up at his place, it was a moderate mess. After some persuading from his side, I let him kiss me. And then things got weird. First, he did not let me stop him and he pressed onwards. I know, rape alert, except I didn't really mind / sorta wanted it.

  He was not getting the picture, so eventually I had to say "OK I AM ON MY PERIOD AND IT'S A HEAVY FLOW". He was like, "it's okay" and I was like "maybe you don't realize this, but your bed will be ruined. And I don't want this to be your first impression of me". He was convinced his white carpet was the best option and did not let me persuade him otherwise. Then he started trying to do things but didn't have condom, spewing at me completely incorrect knowledge about sex and STDs ("you can't get pregnant if I finish outside," "you can't get pregnant on your period"). Somewhere in this conversation he added, "I also don't think I can get people pregnant very easily, like only about 2 times out of 100 or so." Awkward silence. So this meant he had sex about 100 times and had gotten two girls pregnant. I promptly gave him a ten-minute lecture on correct sex education and then made him go buy some condoms and considered running away while he was gone. Except I didn't because inside of me there's always this tiny pervy voice saying, "Bradshaw… how could you possibly refuse sex with a cute guy? You're in control here. And come on, you secretly wanna know what his @$!#@$ all looks like right?"… also, he's a trusted friend of mine, so I stayed.

  Then things got juicy. Except when I touched his chest, he recoiled. Apparently he didn't like being touched there. I touched his nether regions instead, but he didn't really like being touched there either. Apparently he doesn't even touch himself when he's alone. I didn't want him touching me either cause I was vampire central. So the foreplay just jumped out the window. We went straight to the good stuff, on his nice white carpet. Except the good stuff lasted three minutes because apparently he hasn't been able to get it hard for something like two years?

  So wait, you spent two hours trying to convince me to do this, when you knew you weren't even physically able to do anything? We tried a little longer but then we both noticed the red splotches marking up his carpet. He froze, "I… sort of… have a fear of blood…" Oh my oh my. I ran around and dumped his can of beer on the carpet, hoping the carbonation would help clean it. But blood and beer make a deadly cocktail of fail. He eventually convinced himself, "I'm only living here for two more years anyways… it will be a good memory of this night with you."

  I tried to flush all the bloody toilet paper I used to clean up the mess, except his toilet was broken and couldn't flush at all. He apparently has to run his shower into the bowl to flush it? I was too tired to care at this point.

  I caught a quick four hours of sleep and then hightailed it out of there, saying a quick goodbye to his sleepy, still hopeful self. Seems like he remembers that evening and still holds to his dating / wanting to try again mantra. But maybe no matter how great of a personality he might have, I'm not sure if I can handle such an extremely failed first time. Anyways kids - do not mix blood and alcohol! It will not clean a carpet.

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