Archive for July 2007
Submitted by Evan, Age 22, Connecticut
I was at a bar in New York with my buddy Tim, and he started chatting up this brunette who was — to put it kindly — dumb as paint. She was a party girl though, and amazingly hot, so Tim was definitely interested. In my role as wingman and mischief-maker, I decided to have a little fun and mentioned to the girl that Tim was a porn star. To her credit, she didn’t believe me at first, but Tim and I kept insisting. We created this whole backstory about how he was in town shooting this film and how he had his own line of sex toys with his name on them. Slowly but surely, she started to believe us, and, as she did, she became suddenly VERY interested in Tim.
I couldn’t believe it. Within an hour, she had invited him back to her place. Tim walked out of the bar with the hot brunette on his arm and a smile five miles wide. But in the end, the joke would be on him.
Now, Tim is my friend and a great guy, but — how shall it put this? — he is not exactly a porn star. Amongst our frat Brothers, he had the nickname “Mighty Mouse” (until it was changed to “Speedy Gonzales” our senior year), and, yes, you’ve guessed right about what both of those nicknames refer to. Anyhow, enough said.
Apparently, once Tim and his lady friend got back to her place, they started to get naked and get busy, and (I don’t know the details of exactly how this happened, but…) this dumb brunette very quickly wised up to the fact that the man she was about to have sex with was not, in fact, a porn star. Feeling duped, the brunette became hysterical and demanded that Tim leave her apartment at once. In his hasty departure, he left behind his sweater and his underwear. He had to walk 30 blocks in the freezing cold to get to where we were staying that night. True story.
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(After an unexpectedly slow month, I’ve gotten a few good stories in my inbox this week. Here’s a tale I like a lot, and it should serve as a reminder that one needn’t have personally experienced an HNTGL moment to share it with the world. Please do keep those stories coming in and keep spreading the word about my mission [Thanks to all the new folks who have blogrolled me in the last few months! You rule!]. Remember, I can only post stories when I’m getting them in, so click HERE to share yours today. Okay, enough guilt-tripping, you know I love you all. On with the show! — SF)
Submitted by the friend-of-a-friend, Age 29, NYC
There are always these urban legend stories that “happened to a friend-of-a-friend”, but couldn’t possibly *really* be true. This is one of those stories.
Basically, she meets a guy. They go on a date. Maybe a few. Things are going well. They wind up at her place. Making out. He goes for her bra… and…
HE TRIES TO TAKE HER BRA OFF OVER HER HEAD.
To hear her tell it, this was not one of those front-clasp deals that we understand guys might get a little confused by. Just standard issue; it apparently just never occurred to him that the darn things fasten in the back. Or at all, really.
Boys, don’t try this at home. She mercifully refrained from laughter and unhooked it herself, but not before he nearly threw her neck out.
Needless to say, the night ended early, and she never went out with him again.
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Submitted by Sarah
So, after a somewhat promising email chain, I finally went on a date with the guy I’ll call Train Wreck.
In a period of an hour or less, he proceeded to do / ask me / tell me all of the following things:
1. He’s so glad that he joined a fraternity in college so that he could finally lose his virginity at 22. (This is in itself, not horrible, but something you keep to yourself.)
2. He injected himself with insulin at the table, and didn’t ask / mention what he was doing, or why, and then got irritated when I inquired as to his intravenous drug use.
3. Asked if my breasts were real.
4. Asked if I had an STD. Because apparently all the girls he had met from the internet had had STD’s lately.
Seriously, as little interest as I had had before, he really hit it out of the park and out of anywhere near getting into my pants. CLASSY!
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Submitted by Shawn, Age 26, Brooklyn, NY
when she asked me why I was making *that face*, I told her she put on a few pounds and I was just noticing.
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Submitted by Brian, Age 24, Boston, MA
I’m in college. Diane is the hottest girl I’ve ever dated, and things couldn’t be going better. Tonight is gonna be the night we finally have sex, I just know it! We meet for dinner and drinks. She’s looking fine and so am I. My best friend Becca helped me pick out these uber cool linen pants and I’m wearing my silk boxers for the occasion. Pretty soon, though, I realize the problem with this outfit. I’ve got a hard on that just won’t quit, and there is absolutely NO WAY to hide it. The more I try to talk myself down, the harder I get. We leave dinner and walk across campus. I’m dancing like Michael Jackson to try not to let Diane or anyone else notice the all too obvious bulge in my loose thin slacks.
We hit up a party. There will be many people I know there. This is going to be a disaster. As soon as we enter the door, I manage to slip into a bathroom and take a moment to myself. I’ve tried talking my little friend down, I’ve tried a few drinks. Utterly out of options, I decide to take matters into my own hands and I discreetly whack off into the toilet. There. Problem solved. I wait till my friend is grounded and I reemerge into the party.
But suddenly Diane doesn’t want to stay at the party anymore. She wants to head back to her room. I oblige. Can you see where this is going yet? That’s right. We get undressed, ready to have sex, and I . . . can’t. My drinking has turned me into a one shot wonder, and that one shot was fired back in the bathroom by myself. The ensuing battle with the gods of refractory vengeance was ugly at best. What could I say to Diane? Every excuse sounded lame and was. To make matters worse, this ended up being our last date. I never got a chance to prove to Diane that I actually wasn’t the world’s worst lover. I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life.
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Submitted by Mindy, Age 33, Hoboken, NJ
Here’s a great way not to get laid, guys: Don’t cut your fingernails. I once went out on a date with a fellow whose fingernails were longer than mine. I even said yes to a second date because he was otherwise so charming. I hoped that by the second date he’d have done some trimming, but no such luck! It was gross. When he tried to get physical, I said “No Way Jose.”
Then there was the guy who didn’t like to shower, but that’s a whole other story. Where do I find these guys?!
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(4.72 out of 5)
(21 votes, average: 4 out of 5)