So, my roommate Stacey broke up with her boyfriend...
They had been planning to go to a wedding together, but since the split, she decided to bring me instead! Yeessssssss.
We rolled up to this super ritzy country club, (the hotel for the wedding was the Hilton, if that paints a picture of the fancyness levels for you), and My roommate and I were both lookin' fine. She's a beautiful girl, so she looks good always, but I on the other hand, looked amazing, if I do say so myself. I had my Don Draper grade suit on, and knocking back drinks like the man himself. I;d juts acquired a new suit coat and awesome oxfords from Goodwill...for $15. I've ranted about how much it blows trying to find clothes to fit me, but here I just walk into the place and in about 10 minutes, walk out with new shoes and a suit coat that fits and looks about ten times better than my old one did. This is a super modern coat in fit and design, so needless to say, I was happy. Anyway, after the ceremony she'd, issued a challenge to me, seeing who can get the most phone numbers that night. I agreed, but who the hell wants to get into a numbers contest with a babe? Not this guy. Oh well. Well, the night goes on and I meet about 75% of Stacey's family. The bride even asks her if I'm the "new guy," from which I understand that happened quite a bit. Fast forward about 7 more glasses of Dewar's White Label scotch on the rocks, and 7 more glasses of Jameson neat, and you'll find me on the dance-floor with Stacey, slow-dancing and fast dancing as the songs change. I'll make a long story short, but I'm pretty sure we end up making out right there on the dance floor. Making out. With my roommate. Oh, fuck. I'm a bit hazy at this point, but we end up back at the hotel and end making out a ton more outside. Well, I can honestly say that I did not see that coming, at all. I feel bad about this. Her ex boyfriend is kiiiiiind of the drummer in my band and we're kind of best friends. However, he's moving out of state in October, and probably gone for good. I'm 100% convinced that the make out would not have happened at all unless we were drunk, and at the wedding. This happened last night, like I said. This morning she said "we made out last night," to which I said "yeah, we made out a lot last night." We both kind of chuckled it off, so I'm pretty sure that there's nothing we need to talk about, and it shouldn't be awkward from now on or anything I hope. I'd normally feel awful about the situation, but like I said, we laughed it off. It's clearly (I hope) not a big deal to either of us, and I'm also assuming it was a one time deal. I'm ok with it happening again, personally, but like I said, I seriously doubt it. Hopefully no harm done there, and hopefully none of her family witnessed our...closeness. I'd hate for her to get barraged with questions about it. SO, this is what's up lately. At the end of the day, I hope neither of these things repeat themselves. Not that I wouldn't/didn't enjoy myself, but this kind of stuff can end up getting sticky quick, and with my luck, they would. I felt the need to blog about these events, because I'm telling no one about either of them. Some things are better left not gossiped about, and these juicy tidbits are prime examples of such a thing.
Oops, I did it again,
-Frank.
No comments:
Post a Comment