Drunken Mistakes Vol 1

Thanks for everyone for voting yesterday. I decided that I will run three of the stories and come back to the other ones at a later date, maybe run them as a series every Friday until I finish them off. The one garnering the most votes was the “How to turn down sex in the least tactful way known to man: The meanest thing I have ever said to anyone and my comeuppance.” I will run that one Friday and I guess build up to it with two others. Today for your reading pleasure and to clear my name is:

Wait you screwed a girl that rode the short bus?

I was living in Geneseo at the time which is a small college town south of Rochester, NY. I had left school at Albany due to me freaking out about teaching for the rest of my life, financial aid issues, and to save money to go to Europe. The benefit of living in Geneseo was two fold: one I could reconnect with my high school friends that either had finished school or lived around Rochester, and SUNY Geneseo had an 8 to 1 girl to guy ratio.

I was living with my best friend Kyle at the time, whom I would live with for almost five years after me leaving college. We always had someone sleeping on our couch for various reasons, this time we had Marty camping on our couch for months. Marty had just been dumped by a long time girlfriend; he had lost his job, and was in the rebound stage. So our couch was the right place to be, a college town with an active nightlife is a good way to cure all ills. To aide in his recovery I was waiting to start my new job and had a couple of weeks off.

All this added up to waking up at 1 in the afternoon playing various video games and drinking beer before an acceptable hour to go to the bar. Sadly though the college had let out for winter break so it was like a ghost town except for the smattering of local people from neighboring towns that made their way out when the college students return home. It still didn’t deter us from going out and drinking because even with that grouping there was still people worth chasing after.

On a Thursday night we headed up to the bar with our friend John in tow. It was slim pickings in the bar women wise. A few hours into the night two girls walked into the bar, from our positions at the dartboard we tried to evaluate them. John pointed out that one of the girls was named Becky and we had gone to high school with her. Becky was in the special classes for kids with learning disabilities, and she wasn’t really a looker. Her friend was not very attractive either, so I made a smart ass remark in a drunken slur, “Well boys’ looks like we have two targets in the bar, I will give $50 to anyone that hooks up with those ladies tonight.” We all got a laugh out of it. John said that $50 was way to low. There were jokes made the girl she was with, we wondered if she was of the same mental capacity and we were worried that they were killing brain cells with alcohol.

As the night wore on and the 12 hours of drinking got to me I decided to head home early and pass out. There wasn’t anyone worth chasing after at the bar and playing darts with the same handful of friends got old. I walked home and passed out, dreaming of lollypops and sugarcanes. A perfect end to a nice day…. Then I woke up…

I stumbled out of my bedroom into our living room. There was a sleeping bag on the couch, a swimsuit top on the living room table, our living room chair was soaked with water and there was two inches of standing water in the bathroom pouring out into the living room. Marty and John where nowhere to be found and I was left to deal with the mess, I was afraid to touch anything because I figured the police would be showing up shortly for some freaky Chinese water torture investigation.

I cleaned up the water using whatever towels I could find because we didn’t own a mop. About an hour into cleaning Marty showed up with some food and a mop. He came in and apologized for the mess, and saying he had been running around all morning trying to get a doctor’s appointment. Since I am not a psychic I decided to get the run down from him on what had transpired. To this day I almost wished I hadn’t asked. Apparently Marty had picked up Becky’s friend and brought her home; since John was too drunk to drive he decided to stay at our apartment. But since Marty was hooking up on the couch John decided to take a shower until the deed was done. John passed out in the shower with his clothes on and sat on the drain, which caused the shower to overflow and flood the bathroom.

While John was passed out Marty was on the couch hooking up. Apparently the girl he was hooking up with wore a bathing suit top instead of a bra out to the bar. Now let me remind you the bathing suit top was worn in about 15 degree weather. So that should have been a warning sign. Apparently when Marty woke up she had left and John was sleeping in the chair with the water all over. John was drenched so Marty woke him up and sent him home. Marty knew he had to go get a mop so he decided to pee first, he made his way into the bathroom and started to urinate, where he was greeted with a burning sensation when attempting to pee. Not only did she leave Marty with the bathing suit top as a gift she left him with nice case of Chlamydia. Which of course was determined the next day when he went to the doctors and they shoved a cotton swab in his pee hole, this according to Marty was not something that was enjoyable.

After hearing the story Marty then told me, “So where is my $50.” I laughed at him and said, “Are you kidding me? I was joking, I can’t believe you took me seriously. I can’t endorse trying to sleep with retarded girls.” Marty left to go stay at his parents’ house for the night all pissed off, figuring all his hard work had gone for naught. When Kyle returned home from work I told him the story, he immediately called Marty and said, “Wait you screwed a girl that rode the short bus?”

Marty laid low for a couple of days until he went to the doctors, when he returned we made sure that we had put up his own handicapped parking sign. Needless to say he didn’t live this down, well… ever.

A few months later we were all out again and the girl from that night walked by Marty outside the bar in front of the ATM. Marty proceeded to scream across the parking lot at her, “That bitch gave me Chlamydia.” Needless to say that ruined his chances of getting laid with anyone the remainder of the year.

The moral of the story: If a girl can’t wear weather appropriate clothing you should probably think twice about having sex with her.

Tomorrow: “How to emotionally scar a living room full of kids under the age of 19 with a three am snack”