I met him outside, it was two am and I had worked for fifteen hours straight.  I rushed home to shower, washing the smell of bar off my skin and out of my hair. I was nervous in the way that you get nervous on new year’s eve when you’re meeting up with someone you’ve only been out with once before.  He looked so fucking sexy I found myself biting my bottom lip and smiling a real smile as I walked towards him. If I sketched a picture of someone I wanted to make out with last night, it would have been him. He told me sweet things that I laughed off and told him to “stoppp it” but really they felt sincere and made me go a little crazy.

I like noisy bars and clubs because they have a way of insulating you from the reality of any awkwardness you are experiencing with whomever you’ve decided to meet up with.  It also gives you an endless excuse to touch them more and talk an inch away from their face, it’s too loud to hear, after all.  At one point he grabbed my ass, an intentional full handed grab and gently pressed his lips under my ear, from behind. I laughed a bit and called him out, I was amused but also surprised by his assertiveness. He said something like,  ”let me call the shots tonight, babe.” And I obliged, happily.  I kind of hate how drunk I was when he first kissed me but I remember the important parts at least. One fingertip on my chin and later ten fingertips all over me. I told him he could not stay the night-the reason for this is one hundred percent because I did not want the last one to show up.. This is fucked up and I was aggravated and drunk and trying to reason with myself. Somewhere in between fantasizing about a terrible scene between my ex boyfriend and this new guy and taking my dress off and kicking off my high heels I ended up on top of him and the way he smelled made me forget about everything.  

I never get off during drunk sex; I told him I wanted him, I said and I believe I followed it up with, “so fucking bad,” but I also told him it wasn’t happening tonight.

He stayed the night anyway.

You know those awkward, sweaty cuddling sessions after a hook up with someone new?  Whatever the opposite of that is what last night was.  My apartment was approximately 50 degrees and his chest was approximately 77 degrees and I felt like I had slept with him at least a dozen times. A few hours after laying down I realized I had over ten missed calls and texts from the last guy and I started to panic he would show up.. He didn’t.  When I insisted we leave and get coffee he pulled me into the sheets and gently told me to go back to sleep.  I woke up two hours later still tangled in him. We had breakfast and he didn’t stop touching me at all. Arm around me on a bench, hand on my knee..

There is more to this story.  But someone has to go pour drinks for all you hungover people… a hair from the dog that bit you or whatever.  If you send back your bloody mary because its too spicy, I’m making it a virgin.. The things I would do right now for a huge bottle of water and a piece of chocolate cake with extra chocolate frosting are alarming.