Looking Back: Wherein I “sweat in my sleep.”
(Note: If you have ever wanted to sleep with me don’t read any further. If I want to sleep with you, PLEASE don’t read any further. Seriously. If I’ve already slept with you, knock yourself out…I’m done with you. But it‘s pretty disgusting regardless.)
I’ve spent a lot time at strip clubs. When all your friends are guys, there’s a good chance that much of your time will be spent looking at breasts other than your own. Every Wednesday my buddies (mostly co-workers) would start the night at Hooters with cheap pitchers and copious amounts of wings, and end the night at the titty bar.
It’s sad when a guy walks into a strip club and all the strippers know him. When a girl walks into a strip club and all the hoochies yell “Hey Karla!” and the girl hanging off the pole on-stage waves and asks “Wanna lap dance later?”…Well, it’s either very bad thing or a very good thing. I’m not sure.
One night after the boys and I had spent a good deal of time and money to smell like stripper (I’ve never quite been able to pin down the scent…It’s a mixture of whore sweat, baby powder and sugar cookies…But whatever it is it’s impossible to wash off your face.) I got a ride home with Kyle, one of my more unattractive co-workers. Or apparently I did because I woke up naked with him in my bed, having no recollection of how I got there.
The reason I woke up was because I was cold. And wet.
I was lying in a puddle of piss. My own.
I had gotten so drunk I wet the bed. I was lying in a pool of piss, next to my overweight and unattractive co-worker. Naked. Christ.
But as Kyle awoke, I covered for myself.
“Wow, it must have been hot in here last night…I sweated so much, did you sweat a lot? Seriously, I should have turned on the air conditioning ’cause I sweat A LOT.”
Then, to further distract, I quickly rolled on top of him (hating myself the whole time), threw the blanket over the wet spot, and had sex with him.
I don’t think he noticed the “sweat” stain.
———–
An even more disgusting afterward: A few months later I hooked up with Kyle again. Same story - Hooters, strip club - except I was (somewhat) sober. I had just finished my period, and was looking for a quick lay. During the sex, I was somewhat surprised…”Wow, I didn’t remember Kyle being this big.”
He wasn’t. As I discovered when I went to the bathroom afterwards and realized I still had a tampon stuck inside me.
Yeah. My period hadn’t ended, I had just forgotten a tampon. For nearly a WEEK. I’m still surprised I didn’t get Toxic Shock.
The mess was indescribable.
Well, it wasn’t, really, but if I did describe it, you’d wish I hadn’t. Especially if you still had any thoughts of sleeping with me.
In which case, you’re an even sicker fuck than I am.