“…Not getting laid by anyone that wouldn’t be mistaken for The Hunchback of Notre Dame anyways.”
Anonymous Suzie writes in:
I put an ad on Craigslist in an attempt to meet a decent guy. I received a few replies, and one guy was pretty sweet and funny, so I started corresponding with him. He sent me a photo, he was attractive, and I was excited to meet him. I didn’t want there to be too much pressure so I invited a friend, and he said he would invite friends too. We go out in D.C. and meet at this lounge, and my friend and I walked right by him. The reason being that he looked so drastically different from his photo, I didn’t recognize him. He was about 15 lbs heavier, had a bad haircut, was really pasty, and looked much more aged than the photo, which I quickly realized had to have been at least 5 years old. I was pretty pissed off, but I thought that I would give him a shot because he seemed really nice and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I thought I could overcome my initial repulsion at his appearance by concentrating on his personality. He was by himself despite him telling me that he would bring a friend or two, so it was slightly awkward in the first 15 minutes, and that’s putting it diplomatically. As the night goes on, he’s really sweet (in a puppy-like way) and I’m getting progessively more drunk mostly to deal with my disapointment that I am definitely not getting laid. Not getting laid by anyone that wouldn’t be mistaken for The Hunchback of Notre Dame anyways. He was extremely socially awkward despite being a nice person, I felt like I had to make intense effort to make sure he was comfortable and he was slightly sweating the entire time. If he had been a witty, firecracker with funny stories I would not be writing this because I would have fallen for his character. He just ended up being really awkward and boring, with no sense of humor. He had really thick lips, and a slight lisp, and he kept edging closer to me and after a few tequila shots I’m sitting on his lap making out with him. My friend drunkenly looks on, and in her state of inebriation does nothing to stop me because she’s too busy drunkenly text-fighting her boyfriend. The guy even put his hands up my shirt and kept mumbling “I love your tits” over and over in this creepy, panty, serial killer voice. My friend and I end up sleeping in his living room because we were too drunk to drive home. Thank fucking god I didn’t have sex with this guy, it would have murdered the last ounce of my self-esteem. When I wake up I’m horrified that I made out with him. Physically nauseated even. I want to get the fuck out of there, so I wake up my friend and we start to sneak out. By the way, his apartment was filthy, emoty gatorade bottles, dirty laundry, and old magazines strewn everywhere. A Glade Plug-In definitely wouldn’t have hurt the place either. Dude catches us leaving and he’s like “Where are you guys going?” We say we’re going to get breakfast and we really need to get home, we’re sooo tired and hung over, and we look terrible, etc.. He than proceeds to invite himself out to breakfast with us. We sit through an extremely awkward breakfast at IHOP. I learned a valuable lesson that weekend. NEVER pity makeout or fuck someone.