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His face cracked into a crooked smile, his top lip much thinner than his bottom one. I can't remember kissing him. I'm sure I must have, we obviously slept together. "What's mine?"
"Brian?" I guessed. We were still lying naked next to each other, but our bodies weren't touching. Brian was the name of the last guy I slept with.
"Ethan," he said, stressing the second syllable like a petulant toddler. "You didn't seem that drunk," he added defensively.
Now I smiled a real smile. With a few fantastic exceptions, I was a champion at never seeming that drunk, always seeming surprised if I sloshed my champagne to make it seem like a sexy slip-up, instead of something I'd do again and again and again during the course of the evening.
With as much dignity as possible, I scooped up my clothes and brought them with me to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror, idly wondering if I'd sleep with him again. I splashed cold water on my face and pulled a towel around me. I decided that I would sleep with him again, if he wanted to.
He didn't.
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With as much dignity as possible, I scooped up my clothes and brought them with me to the bathroom.
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After that, I tried to reform. I made a point not to hook up at parties, not to drink at all on first dates, and then to consciously pace my drinking on subsequent dates so I'd never drink more than the man I was with. It was productive. I dated a medievalist and a lawyer and an unemployed guy who did triathlons. I've done dates over coffee, at the movies, once even kayaking on the Hudson. And they're fine.
Still, despite the myriad bad points, there's something irresistible about a drunken hookup, something that I can't quite give up, no matter how hard I've tried. It's a mini-relationship in one night, both simple and Shakespearean as we move from strangers to partners-in-crime to lovers to strangers again. I love the meandering conversations about favorite childhood books, the spontaneous decision to go to another bar down the street, the moment at which the first-date nerves are nonexistent and all that exists is in-the-moment fun, the way no permission needs to be asked before we kiss, the way the bartender sends over a complimentary round of drinks. For those few hours, the world just seems a little more magical.
And that's where you came in, Mr. I Can't Believe that Drunk Girl. Because, while I'm sure I'll never see you again, I want you to know that getting drunk with you wasn't really an accident. It was something I did on purpose. The point — and what I was trying to say with that third vodka shot — is I'm restless and scared and terrified of growing up, and I figure, if you liked me drunk, then you'll love me sober. And I'd be happy to talk about it more. Over a drink. n°
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
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J.L. Scott is the pseudonym of a writer/editor in New York City.
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©2009 J.L. Scott and Nerve.com
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Commentarium (28 Comments)
What a repugnantly self-loathing way to live. I really hope this is fiction.
I think it's sad and very, very honest. And I bet there are a lot of other women who've done this at various stages of their lives. hopefully, the writer is in a better place now.
I totally understand. Although for me, the morning after always sucks, but like a moth to the flame .....
lovely piece. and good that you are modulating. cyclical behavior is the enemy, keep it fresh.
I really loved your story.. very clever, funny & cute. I get the, if he will love me as a drunken mess theme.. But unfortunately people (men), are not that smart & are very judgmental.. its typically a woman, who would love a drunken, coke head.. & see so much potential in him.. that was me.. I want more of a man than his party face.. and trust me, so did the guy's who went out with you..
your awesome for righting this article I loved it
LRR
beautiful! I can totally relate...
We should trade tales of interest over a few drinks...
Can you send me your contact info? I'd like to take you out for a drink...
A good thread of life, fiction or otherwise. Although, this one might need to be pulled before the fabric completely unravels. One last toast and then...One last toast and then...
this is amazing. i just want you to know. you are courageous and brutally honest to be able to understand yourself on a level that overrides denial with dignity.
I also once knew someone who had a different name when she was really drunk. My guess is that if your personality changes so much when you drink that you're using a different name to represent that personality, and that name seems to be coming up quite frequently, that you should probably rethink your lifestyle. (By the way, Nerve staff, page 1 seems to be coming up pretty wide in my browser.)
The final paragraph sums it up. My life, written out for me to read, at the hands of someone else. One day we will all see the err of our ways, until then... bartender...
yep, i've been doing this for years. i've come to the sad believe that dating people for 3 months is the best-case scenario b/c they're still the person you want them to be in your head, not the person they really are.
i love drunk hook ups. they are filled with intrigue and randomness and laughter.
yeah, you do it on purpose, and you can quit any time. I hope this is a satirical piece because if not, the author is an addict and possibly has a personality disorder. and the fact she wears designer clothes and goes to yoga class doesn't make it glamorous. it's just as sad and gross. please get help.
Oh. My. God. This is me and I've never seen anyone else like me with the same issue. Thank you
This is most of the pathetic serially single skanks in their 20's and 30's. People wonder why it's so hard to find love, it's because the crutch they use to loosen up socially makes them disgusting people, who wouldn't be disgusting without it ... as this story was stating
you are an alcoholic sweetie...you're not denying it but you haven't reached that jumping off point because living like this is fun for you-for now. this scenario, over and over to the tired age of 38 is what brought me to the cross roads and a church basement, hating it ever step of the way.
three year later, sober, happy and still horny===I'm finding out hot random sex, sober, is for grown ups, the shit you're pulling is for kids.
saving a seat for you...
26 - young professional female - could have written the piece myself. except for the peeing.
Bell
porque es acerca de la alegr
As I found out for myself, there are literally thousands of stories JUST like yours in every AA meeting in the world. If you ever ask yourself "Am I an alcoholic?" the answer is YEP. People without an issue with alcohol/other substances never ask that question. Hope you can get off that merry-go-round sooner rather than later--you can have a life..
You've got an excellent writing style and you definitely touched a nerve with me. You should consider a follow up if you make any progress there.
Lady, listen from someone who knows. Slut-Fu, or "The Way of the Drunken Ho-bag" is not something you want to continue just because it feels comfortable. Yes it's a hundred times easier than having a relationship. But that's because meaningless sex is basically robbing you of real life.
There's a reason people form lasting, loving relationships and don't just sleep with anybody they meet at the bar. They are rewarding. There is no reward in drunken hook-ups other than successfully pushing down the innate natural desire to want to make a connection with someone. Because that's *hard*. It's *easy* just to have a fling and make that your "mini-relationship". You put your time and energy and emotion into having some laughs and enjoying the pure sexual energy and freedom you find in the arms of a stranger who desires you, but does not care for you. When you find someone you can love, and that can love you back.... that's it, girl. That's all she wrote. You won't want anything else. But you can't sabotage yourself each night in a drunken stupor and expect to find it.
It took the help of my friends showing me how little respect they had for what I was doing for me to start to question my role. I thought everything was going fine. I thought it was just natural to hook up again, and again, and again, ... Well let me tell you there's some serious social stigma associated with it, even amongst other men. Once I really thought about it, I realized the reason I would just hook up without even liking these girls was that 1. it was easy and 2. I didn't have to think about how hard it would be to find a girl who I could really care for. After that I had a few friends with benefits, and once it was obvious they ran it's course i'd give myself a break again. Eventually the urge would creep up again. But it's so much better taking your time and finding someone you can spend your time with and really enjoy it. Life is too short to waste your time with "just sex".
I really enjoy your writing, how you blend foggy recollections of the experience with razor-sharp observations of your issues. What courage and growth I see between your college days writing and this note. I recall how terrified I have been before a dreaded encounter and how the bourbon helped me get out the door. But now at times, your buzz is from running or coffee and you make it through. Please continue to share at least an occasional observation on these issues as it may help us both understand our journey a bit better.
I've always shyed away from hookups. Not that I don't want to but because it seems like a great way to cut out any emotional contact. I think you'll have a much more intense orgasm if you let your emotions be a part. Its hard, its scary, and it can heart your heart A LOT but its worth it.
Good writing. I liked this article a lot.
That was great, im the same way, im just trying to find someone to love me drunk or not
OMG this is so amazing. I totally love this story and your positive outlook on life!!! it is motivation to us office drones, monday to friday!