And they say romance is dead....

There is a fine line between "drunk enough to be a good time" and absolute disaster. While I have always known this, I  generally considered it one of those facts that you do not believe until you experience it, much like toast always landing butter side up. 

Well, I got a little schooling last night.

Last week I met this guy at the bar. Overwhelmingly good looking, I was shocked to hear from him later in the week, hoping to hang out this weekend, giving me his number, making small talk. While the banter was certainly strained, I was hoping he'd be a bit more witty after a few drinks.

We finally agreed to hang out last night. Oddly enough, I was nervous. Absolutely convinced of my aweseomeness, I am never nervous. This resulted in my not really eating all day and drinking heavily, a wise combination.

The plan was for me to bring my many attractive female friends, him to bring his entourage of bros and us to dance drunkenly through the night. However, when I got to the bar, I received a call that he was at a different bar. And wanted to meet. At 1:30.

 Any meet up starting at 1:30 in the morning does not have good intentions.

After many texts - and many drinks -  I finally agreed to meet him, explaining that we were NOT going to sleep together. 

The walk home I was slurred and stumbling and apparently he's the strong silent type. We were quite the couple. Upon making it back to my bedroom, the activities were less than wedding night, but would still make my mother blush and probably be very disappointed in me. 

I was drunk to the point that I could possibly be a very good partner and I even fell off the bed a few times.  Oh god.

Upon completion - because that's really the best way to describe the entire experience - he clothed himself, got on my computer without asking (good thing I hadn't left his Facebook, which I had been lurking, up) to check bus schedules back to his apartment and called another girl. 

"I'm going to go hang out with my friend. See ya."

I know I may not have been in top form, but HE certainly enjoyed himself far more than I did. 

I've spent the bulk of the day wishing I had drank even more so I would not remember the entire thing.