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If you’ve got a hookup horror story, send it in using our submission form, and be sure to select “Column.” All stories will be made anonymous. Try to keep it under 500 words. Thou shalt not judge lest ye be judged.
“Will” from Atlanta, GA
Living in Atlanta and traveling for work has its perks. I have damn near 100,000 Delta SkyMiles and I never have to worry about getting a nonstop flight anywhere. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case a couple months ago when I was traveling to one of my company’s plants. It was fairly last minute and I couldn’t get on a direct flight to San Diego. I had to connect in Detroit. Go north to go west, I guess.
My flight landed in Detroit and landed late, so I missed my connection. There were two flights to San Diego for the rest of the day and there was always the option of flying into LA and renting a car, but lol fuck that. I went to the nearest airport bar, which was damn near empty except for another woman at the end of the bar. We talked a little bit life and even figured out that we were both going to San Diego. We ended up not getting on any flight that night, so the airline put me up in a hotel and guess who decided to join me at the hotel bar? We then got drunk and proceeded to have crazy hotel sex.
I woke up the next day with a raging hangover…also, I woke up at 10am. I had already missed two flights and didn’t get on a plane until 5pm that night. Almost got fired. The life of a traveler.
“Walt” from Trenton, NJ
Let me tell you about this time that I got completely wrecked and had sex with a woman. Crazy story.
I woke up in her apartment around 6am, because that’s what you do when you hook up with a stranger. I did not want to stay there any longer, because I knew the woman that I hooked up with was of below average attractiveness. Maybe she was nice and sweet. From what I could remember, she was very generous. I still wanted to get out of there. I couldn’t hang around anymore. I wanted to get home and lay in my bed until I wasn’t feeling like microwaved death.
Still naked, I rolled out of her bed, snuck in the bathroom, pulled the whole “pee on the side of the bowl” routine with my stream as to not wake her up and be forced into talking to her. Didn’t even remember her name. Sarah, or something. I found my shirt from the night before and threw it on and began the search for my remaining clothes. I was Pooh Bearing all over her apartment, in desperate search of anything I could cover the lower half of my body with. Nothing. Not even a blanket that I could fashion into a half-assed sarong. I was still shitfaced, but found my phone, wallet and keys on her coffee table. I immediately called a cab with the remaining 2% of battery left on my phone and continued the search for my clothes. The sun was starting to rise, but I was dying for a cigarette, so I stepped out onto her deck, which was conveniently tucked away from view of anyone.
As I was puffing on the cig, I took my head out of my hands and noticed that she had a swimming pool at her apartment complex, and there swinging in the early morning breeze were my pants…15 feet up in a tree branch hanging over the pool. It was still a little dark out and the lights around the pool were off. I monkeyed my way up the tree and got close to my close and then SNAP! I shouted as I fell into the pool, snatched up my pants (which tore just below the crotch), climbed out of the pool, put them on and booked it out into the parking lot.
The cab showed up after the longest 10 minutes of my life. About a half mile from my apartment, the cabbie looked back into the backseat in his rear-view and saw my junk in full view, thanks in part to the giant rip in my once whole pants.
He told me to hit the bricks and I walked the final half mile to my apartment looking like a hobo.