My friend Lee has been able to pick up on the fact that I need to get laid. This is true. Since the beginning of the school year, I’ve been in a bit of a drought and lack the necessary equipment, whether it be mechanical or human, is slowly driving me to the madhouse.
The thing is, I am not a slut and not looking to romp with some random guy that might have the clap. Nor am I thrilled at the idea of being in a committed relationship. We’ve already established that the practice of being someone’s hookup buddy didn’t work for me and Gus is already taken. As I sit here, unable to think of any other type of boy-girl relationship that’s gonna get me some, I’m left hopeless and with the irrational fear that my horniness might actually eat me alive.
But then it occurs to me: give the ex-boyfriend a ring. Why not? It’s not like we haven’t done it before, we’re over the proverbial “emotional baggage,” and at the very least I’m sure I’ll climax.
So I decided to call. The only problem was that, being a boyfriend from high school and currently going to school in Boston, it would take him a while to get here. Knowing time was not on my side, I hung up the phone and tried to think of something else I could do.
I was definitely thinking too much, so my friends and I decided to have a crazy Friday downtown and at parties. I thought I looked rather nice and I made up my mind to go with the flow. Maybe someone from last year would come up to me or maybe I’ll meet a new guy with some game. (not friggin’ likely).
So there we were, a couple drinks later and I meet someone named, umm, Ferguson (heh, Ferguson) and let me tell you, he did in fact have some game. We talked for a long time, he berated me for my last article, which I found cute (for some reason) and then, as the urge rose up in me. I thought, “fuck it” and kissed him.
Now, I do not know about you, but I do not like the “we’re still in 8th grade and I’m never gonna close my mouth, but just move my tongue around a lot” type of kissing, but this guy did and thought he was hot shit for it. I, on the other hand, thought I was going to puke (his tongue was actually doing some sort of wave type motion).
I don’t mean to be so graphic, but his tongue never left my mouth and I wasn’t so much kissing, as I was actually choking to death. Oh, and my lips are still chapped from the excess spit.
We were standing there for what felt like an eternity, but was probably 30 seconds to a minute and, for lack of a better excuse and all the alcohol, which prohibited me from thinking of a clever get away, I actually told him — and I’m gonna quote myself — “I have to… go, mmyy friend…is stuck innn umm…a weird-place.”
So I left (not so much left as ran away) and, oh, my problem, the one with being too horny…solved.
Mikol Zweig is a sophmore English and Arabic major