I woke up in a strange place the morning of Valentine’s Day. I woke up in someone else’s spot.

It was close to eleven when I pushed the sheets off and was met by the frigid air. I quickly threw some clothes on and went to the bathroom. He was sound asleep. I stole some toothpaste and smeared my eyeliner back into place–eyeliner that was surely smeared on his pillow as well–eyeliner that isn’t hers.  When I hurried back into the bed to capture the seeping warmth, I disrupted the bed’s weight and he woke up.  As he rolled over to look at me, he said, “Happy VD.”  “Happy Venereal Disease day to you too.”

It had started the night before.  I was sitting in my room putting on said eyeliner, listening to horribly catchy pop music and drinking a bottle of wine. Dev and I were going out for the night and I only had so much time to sufficiently get ready and pregame.  My phone chirped and between the 5 people I had been texting back and forth with at the time, he was the last person I expected to hear from.  I was almost shocked to see his name.

I knew it meant one or two things or both:

He was drunk and he needed to get laid.

Couldn’t say I wasn’t in the same boat and his message intrigued me.

“You want to have a mature conversation tomorrow or an immature session tonight?”

Hmm.

I told him I wasn’t planning on drinking much downtown, so I could talk later or I could talk tomorrow.  As long as he wasn’t blacking out later would be find.  He kept making stabs at the idea of us having sex, I dodged it entirely and said we had to talk first.

So I went downtown with Dev.  That piece of scum who bit D last semester tried to hit on Dev early in the night by saying “My friends are telling me you’re the one who keeps farting.” I couldn’t place him at first, but as soon as he said he was from Mississippi I lost it.  “You’re that guy who bit my friends last semester! That’s disgusting, you can fuck off now. Thanks.”  He slurred some sort of excuse together and I rolled my eyes.  He ended it with, “But I dress well and have money.”  I laughed in his face because he didn’t dress well at all and told him “Money doesn’t go far with us.  Go away.”  The rest of our time downtown was uneventful, but good none the less.    I texted him and told him to pick me up at one outside the bar and we would talk.

I finished my last Magic Hat and said goodbye to Dev and her ex boyfriend who had joined us at that point.  I walked down to the nearby restaurant he told me to meet him at and stood in the cold waiting.  This was the last thing I thought I would be doing, but here I was once again waiting in the cold.

His car drove up and I sketchily searched it, making sure it was him before I got in.  We drove back to his house and I complimented him on his plaid pajama pants–how I do love plaid.  We pulled into his driveway, he put the car in park and I reached for the door.  He hesitated.  “So ok, wait,” he started. “My roommate’s girlfriend is here.”  “Ok? Oh…great, so she knows all about the bullshit from before doesn’t she?” “No that’s not it.  I’m kind of dating someone, so this doesn’t look good.”  I immediately started laughing and told him I knew what to do.
We stepped inside his house, the house I never thought I’d be in again and I saw them both sitting on the couch. I gave them an obligatory wave and darted into his room. He followed closely behind me. This was dejavu from last October.

We sat on his bed in the same fashion from before and I had to break the silence again. “You’ve read the email, you know what I think.  It’s your turn to talk.”  He agreed. He explained what happened that night and agreed that we don’t respect each other and to extent thats ok.  I told him that was only okay when we’re actually having sex, otherwise it’s not acceptable.  We came to the conclusion that he is an asshole and I’m a psychotic bitch and that we would be nicer to each other.  And that if either of us aren’t down for fucking when the other asks, a simple “not tonight” suffices.

But then I had to ask him the obvious question.  “Why do you need to call me if you’re dating someone?” He told me she doesn’t exactly put out…at all.  I couldn’t help but laugh hysterically again–asking him what the point of dating someone was if you didn’t have someone you could reliably stick it in and was she a virgin?  He said he didn’t know and told me to stop talking and get naked (see, its ok then to be disrespectful.) A few minutes later he asked me when he was really allowed to start ordering me around.  I told him you don’t ask, you just do.

I went to the bathroom and asked him to get me some water.  When I returned the pajama pants were no where to be found and he was waiting. He hasn’t always been the greatest kisser, but maybe because for once he was sober or maybe homegirl taught him a thing or two, but either way, he was finally good at it. He also remembered all of the things I told him to do when the Lawyer was here–saying that one certain thing and the trick with his fingers.  Halfway through fooling around, I stopped him and said, “Hey… you remembered!” “Stop talking. Get back to work,” he ordered.  I happily did so, how I had missed that machete. He pointed it  authoritatively in my face, demanding my attention. He pulled my hair and made me get on my knees to do it.  I was a happy girl.  It had been too long since I had gotten to deep throat that work of art. I reached for my hair band, pointing out that I finally had one with me and put my hair up.  As soon as I did, the hair band broke. Fuck.  He said not to worry he had one and reached for his night stand.  Undoubtedly homegirl’s.  Nice.

I stared at his abs waiting for the sign that I need to pull out the final Shro move to end it all.  The abs are always telling and in this position I could see he had lost weight–not that he needed to. Perhaps homegirl keeps him from drinking as much?  That’s ok, as of late, I’ve been drinking enough for the two of us.  I was given the abalicious green light and went for it.  He tapped me on the shoulder to let me know, but I shook him off.  Please, I already knew and I’m not one to pus out at the end.  So I happily took it and winked at him, wiped off my mouth and asked him to hand me that glass of water.

His refractory period doesn’t really exist, so I knew after a few minutes I could finally get a good stuffing in.  So I laid there and waited.  We compared notes on how we both got off to the other the day before, which is one of the reasons he called me and one of the reasons I agreed, and then I tried to get back to work.  He had originally said we were gonna go all night, which was music to my ears.  However, now nothing was happening.  I looked at him and he revealed that he had taken two sleeping pills before I had come over.  I squinted at him and asked why.

“Well, you just kept saying how we had to talk, I didn’t think I was getting laid.”
“Of course you were getting laid!” I retorted.

“Well fuck, how was I supposed to know?  You like morning sex, we can do it then.”
The vag was getting upset. “I like morning, mid morning, lunchtime, afternoon, evening and night sex. And I really like right now sex.”

This wasn’t going anywhere.  It wasn’t happening. FUCK!  He put on Home Improvement and fell asleep immediately.  I laid awake, alternating between staring at the lame glow in the dark stars the previous owners had put on his ceiling and at Tim Taylor grunting at Wilson.

I woke up multiple times throughout the night. Every time there was a different show from my childhood playing, eventually I turned it off when I woke to Family Matters. Then I woke up at 11, the TV off, him sleeping soundly next to me, and the black out curtains blocking out the sun.  This is when I went to the bathroom.

After we exchanged our words of happy VD, he checked his phone and immediately realized he fucked up.  He was supposed to be at a fund raising event two hours ago.  I could see our morning sex plans fading fast.  Think fast!

“You’re already late. What’s being another hour late or not going at all?”

He told me his grade depended on it.  I reminded him of the time he convinced me to skip class when my grade depended on it (still got an A, bitches).  He said he knew, but he had to go.  I wasn’t letting this opportunity slip by me so easily.  I knew talking wouldn’t help him change his mind.  So this time I got him to stop talking, as he listened very intently to my argument.  It was one that seemed to be winning.  But then I stopped, looked at him and plainly said, “Ok, we can go now.”  I thought this would work.  It didn’t.  After five minutes of talking himself down, he got up and quickly got dressed.  I disappointingly put back on my smokey clothes and watched him trip over my gold heels. I laughed, of course.

We got in his car and he drove me home. I told him he had to fuck me later. He said I couldn’t demand that. I said, “Fine, then I request you make this up to me later and fuck me silly.”  I got out of the car and he left in the rain to go wash cars.

—–

Later that night, Dev and Canadian Neighbor and I were sitting in my room getting ready after an extensive dinner and downing three bottles of wine.  We were on our fourth when I decided to see if he was going to make it up to me. I texted him something long and very dirty. He responded, “Homegirl is back.”  I looked at her hairband that was still on my wrist and couldn’t help but laugh–neither of us were getting laid that night.

Baseball Player is back, bitches.

Who would have thought?

You did… I know.