Archive for the 'Drugs/Alcohol' Category
Submitted by Michelle, Age 20, California
I was in college (this was not too long ago), and I was doing some volunteering through school. I gave rides from the work site to the school for a few weeks. Usually I got stuck with two annoying girls and this one good looking guy. I was shy so we all just talked about music. The last week, the girls don’t show, and I tell the guy that he looks like one of those kids who gets stoned right before class. He said he did that in high school and asked me if I did too. I am hung over from the night before (and that is another how not to get laid story) and I decide to practice some flirting on him since this is the last time I am volunteering (which means the last time I will see him). So I decide to tell him that all I did in high school was have sex. I told him how I probably had sex more times than he got high (I left out that it was with one boy and I haven’t done it since). He seems shocked, and I feel stupid, but we are almost back to school. Then, just as I am pulling up to the parking spot, he says, “I have an hour before class. Want to go to my dorm?” Suddenly, what I have been hoping for has come to pass, but I can not get myself to say a word. I am speechless. And he just says, “That’s okay,” and gets out of the car and walks away. And I bang my head against the wheel and go, “why?!?!”
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Submitted by Bradley, Age 25, Quebec
I’ve never been much of a pick-up artist; in part because the idea of one night stands has never particularly interested me, and second (which might really be the reason for that first part), because I’ve never managed to hook one up, rare though the attempts were.
That being said, I guess I’m not so great at picking up signals from girls who might actually be interested. And by signals, I mean blatant offers… Case in point:
I’m at the bar. Now, when I go to the bar, it’s to get drunk, not laid. So, I was, well, pretty damned drunk. To date, that’s my excuse.
So I’m at the bar, and I see a girl I knew vaguely from work. By “know,” I mean that I knew her name. She knew mine, and we’d exchanged the occasional hello. That’s about it.
So we get to some small-talk at the bar, and I don’t think we’d properly gotten past the “how’s it goin’?” phase of the conversation before she asks me if I need a place to stay for the night.
Now, like I said, not so much with the picking up on (blatant) signals.
So in a confident voice, I tell her, “Yes, as a matter of fact, I’m crashing on my friend’s couch.”
And that was that. She went off hunting for more apt candidates, and I took a couple of hours to figure out that I’d essentially declined a bald offer of sex…
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Submitted by Elizabeth, Age 25, Austin, TX
I was drinking with one of my really good guy friends (or so I thought). In the past we had hooked up. So why not again? I told him to use a condom. In the middle of the deed, he messes up the condom. He tells me “I did not get off,” then asks me “are you on birth control?”
I said “no.” He began grilling me about why I was not on the pill. To me, this is the kind of conversation you only have with someone you are dating. I actually had another condom in my purse, but by this point I was completely and utterly turned off. Then, not once, not twice, but three times he offered to buy me the morning after pill so we could finish having sex.
I had no idea how to respond. Honestly, I have never had a guy suggest that. For the first time in my life, a guy made me speechless. I would expect this kind of behavior from a one night stand but not a friend. So, I got dressed and left. I have not talked to him since. Maybe, eventually, we will be friends again, but the sex thing is a no go.
So boys/men: never offer a girl the morning after pill unless you are in a serious relationship. Practice safe sex and stock up on condoms.
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Submitted by lola harrington, Age 35, Mouseville, FL
it’s the early 90s, and i’m 19 and an undergrad at a college in florida’s capital city. i have broken up with my boyfriend who lived in the same apartment complex, but we still get on really well. so well, in fact, that i hang out at his apartment with his three other roommates. he and i stop sleeping together, but from time to time i sleep with his other two roommates … usually separately. ; )
unfortunately for the third roommate, i’m not into him. he’s overweight, a total loud-mouthed hick, pasty-white, and wore really unattractive glasses. he tried to guilt me into sleeping with him, and then called me a whore when i refused. i explained repeatedly that my involvement with his roommates wasn’t a free-for-all, but a
respectful arrangement that happened when we were available and amenable. guilting me into sex was not going to work, i explained, and neither would flattering me. he STILL didn’t get it. so he tried alcohol.
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(I find it curious that, all of a sudden, most of my stories seem to be coming from women. Will this trend continue? Or will the boys start fessing up to their mistakes again? Anyhow, here’s another international entry for you. This story is a little racy and all sorts of wrong, but who am I to judge? Enjoy. — SF)
Submitted by Alexandria, Age 21, London
This actually happened! I still find myself wondering if it really happened or if I just made it up. A bunch of years ago when I was sixteen, I’d made it into a night club. Two years before I was supposed to get in there. The bouncer had been more interested in looking at my boobs than my ID.
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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 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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(Was it too much to hope that our 69th story would be about, well, 69? In a word: Yes. No 69 stories this week. Fortunately this little nugget is not too far afield. So enjoy! — SF)
Submitted by Bill, Age 22, Atlanta, GA
Last week I was out with my buddy John, and he’s trying to get with this hot girl he’s been working on for some time. She was with her equally hot friend, and it was the four of us at this bar. We were having some brewskies and things are going well. We boys are throwing down the charm, and it seems to be working. Laughs all around.
The subject then goes to sex, and then oral sex, and I’m thinking this can only be a good thing. That is, until John, starts in about how bad it tastes to go down on a girl. Now, John is normally cool, but his charm and comedy is definitely of the non-politically correct “I’m the guy who tells it like it is and fuck you if you disagree with me” variety. It was soooooo wrong for this moment. He goes off on this bit about how he’s never going to go down on a woman again. Was he being serious? Doesn’t matter, it was a stupid move. Whatever interest this chick may have had in him . . . gone. She did a 360. John, needless to say, did not get laid.
On the flip side, thanks to John’s little editorial, I got to be the guy who valiantly defended the cause of cunnilingus, and, I will say, the ladies were much more sympathetic to my position. I got my reward later. But then, that’s another story . . .
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Submitted by Drew, Age 21, Toronto
My first week on the campus residence at college was typical: meet a ton of new people, make a ton of new friends, get hammered, and preform various acts of debauchery.
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(The Dangers of Alcohol: Part 3 — where our protagonist once again learns: Screw the sauce or be screwed by the sauce. — SF)
Submitted by TooCool, Age 36, Traverse City, MI
I was in my mid-20s, and thought I was just the coolest bitch ever. Just graduated a prestigious college. Big fish, small pond. I met a guy at work with an ego greater than/equal to mine, and I tried like hell to bag him.
We had had a one-nighter, which, fueled by way too much alcohol, was forgettable. Er, forgotten. I wanted another chance.
Long story short — I had a party at my parents’ house on the lake, about 40 miles from the city. It was a pain in the ass to get him to come all the way out there for the bash, but he did finally show up, with another cool friend.
By the time he arrived, I was so far gone on booze and hash that I made a total ass of myself. I allowed him to degrade my assembled local friends — and I joined in. I was unhinged.
Fast forward an hour or so, I puked all over the place. He and his friend made a hasty retreat while I vomited. I returned to the party to find everyone gone.
How cool is that?
P.S. Ironic ending — I am now happily married to Cool Guy’s childhood best friend — who has let me know in no uncertain terms that NO ONE who actually knows Cool Guy thinks he’s cool. He’s actually a whiny, insecure heroin addict (And the probable reason I don’t remember the one-nighter is because his dick is so small that it was like throwing a hotdog down a hallway).
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(Part 2 in our educational series about the dangers of alcohol. Part 3 to come in a few days. Listen and learn, children! — SF)
Submitted by Ron, Age 29, Austin, TX
It’s New Year’s Eve, 2006, and I’ve got a night planned with a very attractive co-worker of mine. She and I have been out enough for me to know I like her, and for her to discover I’m not quite her type… but it’s New Year’s, dammit! Nobody likes to be alone and neither of us had been intimate in ages. It had been two years for her, and almost five years for me. This was going to be a good night and I’ll be damned if I was going to let anything get in the way.
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Submitted by Elizabeth, Age 18, Williamsport, PA
I had a big crush on this guy my senior year in high school. The most excruciating part of having this crush on him and seeing him every day was that he was a desperate virgin and constantly complained about his troubles with women, while I tried to get him to like me to no avail. I think the problem was that he thought I was a little too out-there for him.
Anyway, it’s graduation night, I am an experienced alkie, and he wants to get drunk for the first time ever. So, I encourage him to down more rum, while getting very very drunk myself. Later on in the night, he is tanked, and I decide to tell the whole party about how in love with him I am and how I want to take his virginity. By this point he is close to unconscious and dashing to the toilet while I try to comfort him. My friends then decided to lock me in the room where he is about ready to lie down. They tell me he wants to have sex with me. He keeps falling asleep as I attempt to kiss him. I do remember noticing this and giving up. The next day I awake to find out that I crawled up to the bunk bed above him and vomited in my bed – and onto his head.
I had to get an identification card picture taken the next day in order to board a plane, and I still had puke in my hair. My friends still like to point out that the picture on my ID was taken “the day after I tried to date rape Chris.”
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(23 votes, average: 4.35 out of 5)
(21 votes, average: 3.81 out of 5)