It was post romantic apocalypse and I was finally getting my groove back. I had started tanning and working out so I was one fine piece of azz, and I was ready to back, back, back it up.
My hockey-playing roommates had people over and ShaSha and I were scoping out the scene for some strange. Sadly, it was pretty abysmal, despite my previous inclination to hockey men. So we just pounded drink after drink, building our base of ridiculousness for The Steer.
Now it's time for a little history lesson: I had known "SoCoG" for awhile since he was on the hockey team. I heard that he once lied about having an internship. Another time, he and I were doing SoCo and lime shots and chasing them with Bud Lights on The Steer's balcony bar (that time I did one too many, excused myself and ran to the edge to puke over the railing. It landed right next to a bouncer. I looked down at him and said, "I'm sorry." He replied, "It's okay, it happens."). After I got dumped he started interacting with me more, one time being so bold as to inquire about my king sized bed and was there room for two in it? (I curtly informed him that there was not.)
So I was not so surprised this night, a week after the bed inquiry, when he was hitting on me. When we finally stumbled to The Steer, ShaSha and I kept drinking like hockey men. We were yelling, doing shots out of each others tits...just making a general scene. SoCoG kept buying me any drink/shot I could think of and soon my memory started fading. I remember looking over at ShaSha and my roommate, Dandy, and being shocked as they made out hardcore on the bar (especially considering Dandy had already hooked up with ShaSha's sister, MehMeh). I remember being less shocked as SoCoG started making out with me.
Then I remember walking back to my place with SoCoG and questioning what I was doing. I justified it by asking him, "What are your political views?"
"I'm socially liberal and fiscally conservative," he replied.
Perfect! We could totally bang with those views! (sidebar: sober me does not give two poops about political views)
Then I remember almost nothing except initial penetration...on my living room couch. Saying he was well-endowed was putting it lightly and I think that knocked me out of my blackout, albeit briefly.
Another history lesson: I used to have a pretty fierce drunken bedwetting problem. By this time, it had passed but it could rear its ugly head from time to time.
Back to the story. My next memory was in the morning, me in my bed, my sheets soaked. Still groggy and drunk, I rolled over and found SoCoG next to me. I dragged my body over to the dry side of the bed then woke my new bed buddy, "SOCOG!! WAKE UP! YOU WET MY BED!"
He intoxicatedly mumbled apologies and we went downstairs to sleep on the couches. Dandy came downstairs soon after and reminded me that I had to go to his parent's house for his nephew's birthday party and that I had promised to dress up like Dora the Explorer. Since Dandy was the brother of my recent ex-boyfriend, I had to try to put myself together as nicely as possible so his family could see that I was a much better fit for their son than his new girlfriend.
When I got there, his sister took one look at me and said, "Whoa, you look like Dora the Explorer from East LA after a night of whorin'."
I guess I failed that test. In other news, that was not the last of SoCoG...