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Turned Upside Down
“Nick” from [REDACTED]
About 6 months ago, we welcomed the summer by having a party where we feasted on crawfish and drank cheap, shitty beer. Little did I know, the night would end with me witnessing my straight-edge coworker doing coke off a dashboard, and me hooking up with a coworker.
But I digress, the party was in the evening, so we had plenty of time to get prepared. By “get prepared,” I mean get ridiculously drunk. By the time the party rolls around, I can barely speak, yet somehow I manage to cook 3 batches of crawfish (I’m still really proud of that). The party itself went well, yet the consensus was to head downtown for a night out. I oblige, and get into a car with a coworker while leaving a number of guests behind at my house. The coworker does the gentlemanly thing and offers me some coke – but I decline. He takes a hit (or whatever it’s called), and assures me he’s okay to drive. I mean, he didn’t do THAT much, so he was probably fine.
We manage to arrive to our destination and meet up with the other party goers. The bouncer barely lets me into the bar, and a certain coworker catches my eye. Not just any coworker – the head of our human resources department. She’s also in her late-20s, so there’s really nothing ethically wrong (except that she’s ya know, head of HR). We wind up making out on the dance floor in front of everyone for about 5 minutes then Houdini out of there into a cab and head back to my place. Everyone has left at this point, so we bust open the door, and as soon as I walk into my room, I notice something amiss. Everything was still there in the correct place, with just one minor askew detail – EVERYTHING was turned upside down. My dickhead friends (who I bailed on) turned my bed over, tables, chairs, fans, TV, pictures (you get the picture) all upside down. My room looked like the remnants of Hurricane Katrina. At this point, we did what any two mature adults would do – we put the mattress on the floor, and continued our hookup session, bed-frameless, college-style.
The next morning I woke up, realized the errors of my ways, and pretended I had to go for a run. I put my workout clothing on, dropped my coworker off, then headed back home to go to sleep.
Don’t Hate The Player
“Lea” from Atlanta
Postgrad dating is hard, as we have all experienced. Well, this one is the best, or the most horrifying, hookup story I will ever tell.
One Thursday night, I was out in Buckhead with some of my college friends, when I met, let’s call him “Jason.” Jason was a soldier, and we hit it off, so we hung out all night and the rest of the weekend. We hung out for about two more weeks until he got shipped out to Missouri.
So he moved to Missouri but we were still sexting some every now and then. One day, he offered to fly me out to Missouri. Granted, I didn’t know anything about Missouri, but I thought “Hell, why not? When would I ever get to go to Missouri for free? I have the whole summer off anyway.”
So here I went to Missouri to see the soldier that I have only known for a month other than all the things we sexted about.
Long story short, I was in town from Thursday to Sunday. Thursday and Friday, he had to work and we had terrible sex all weekend. I repeat, TERRIBLE. Nothing we sexted about happened, and I actually thought he was even worse than before he left Georgia. Then we never talked again other than the occasional small talk bullshit.
The horror story is just getting started. Months after I got back, I had a long, almost “tl;dr” long, Facebook message from some girl I didn’t even know. It turned out to be his long-distance girlfriend whom he had when I flew out to see him. He had set his Facebook to the “who can see my stuff” setting to only her so that nobody else could see all the shady shit he was up to.
It didn’t end there. I got 7 more of those similar Facebook messages from the girls (all 7 of them) he flew out to rendezvous with him. Little did his girlfriend know, there were 7 other women in his life…
Sally wanted me to die by getting hit by a Mack truck. Candy wanted to set me on fire and watch as I burned to death. Jill was too sad at the fact that he could do this to her. Caitlin wanted to kill him, then swore to come after me. Whitney just couldn’t believe the story, so she wanted to confirm that he had flown me out. I confirmed it. Stephanie had a shit ton of questions about our relationship, most of which were entirely unintelligible. Cherry wanted to know where I lived. The girlfriend politely asked me to not to ever speak to him again and asked me to not to tell him that she snooped through his phone.
Anyway, I did some blocking on Facebook, which I do all the time these days, and changed my number and moved on. I hope you all enjoyed the story of that time I had bad sex in freaking Missouri and got bitched out by eight different women as a result.