One Saturday night, my roommate Christina decided that we should have a party. I wasn’t quite in the party mindset, so I decided to change that by starting to drink heavily about two hours before anyone was scheduled to show up.
Among the first to arrive was Alex, a friend of a friend who I had once slept with after a drunken night out. Perfect. I channeled my flirtation on him instantly. Before long, we had locked ourselves in the bathroom to make out.
When I finally left to freshen my drink, I told Alex to meet me back there in 20. In the kitchen, I ran into Bill, a friend of Christina. We started chatting as I poured myself a stiff drink, and I found myself thinking, “Well he’s more attractive than he was yesterday.” Before long, we were the only ones in the kitchen. He leaned in, and we were kissing. Hey, you only live once, right? But that’s when I remembered Alex in the bathroom.
“I’ll be right back,” I said. Sure enough, Alex was waiting, and after about ten minutes of heavy petting, I excused myself to return to Bill. This was too much fun—back and forth and back and forth I went. I felt like James Bond, pulling off my mission perfectly. Yup, I was living the dream. That is, until the party started clearing out and everyone still there—including Alex and Bill—congregated in the living room. That’s when Christina pulled me into her bedroom.
“So who are you going for, Alex or Bill?” she asked.
Apparently, I wasn’t as Double Oh Seven as I had thought. “I don’t know,” I said.
“OK. Well how about you take Bill, and I take Alex?” she asked.
“What? No!” I was appalled. “I’ve already slept with Alex; you can’t sleep with him, too!”
“Oh come on, you can have Bill!”
“Why don’t you just take Bill?” I asked.
“I’m not into Bill, but you clearly are, so you can have him.”
I’d had enough. “Just promise me you won’t try to hook up with Alex tonight,” I said.
“Fine.” I realized I was being selfish, but I just didn’t care.
When we came back into the living room, Bill, Alex and Alex’s roommate were the only ones left. Christina snickered. We sat down around the coffee table and started chatting. Well into my umpteenth drink, I just couldn’t stop flirting. At one point, Alex was even massaging my back, while my legs were draped over Bill’s lap. That’s when I realized that there was no way this could end well.
“Can I talk to you?” Alex asked.
We walked into the hallway. Apparently, his roommate was ready to leave. “Do you want me to stay?” he asked. Well, he’d beaten Bill to the punch, and I already knew the sex would be good, so I said yes. We walked back to the living room; Alex had his arm around my shoulders. Bill looked hurt, but he got the message loud and clear. He left soon after, and I told Alex I just needed to grab some water before we called it a night. When I got back to the living room, water bottle in hand, there were Alex and Christina making out intensely on the couch.
I was shocked and steam-coming-out-my-ears angry. What the hell was wrong with her? What the hell was wrong with him? I stormed into my bedroom and did the first thing I could think of—I called Bill.
“Where are you?” I asked
“I just got home.”
“Will you come back?”
“What happened to ‘back massage boy?’” he asked
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “I made a mistake. Please come back.”
And he did. When he arrived, he crawled into bed with me, we kissed a little and I passed out.
The next morning, the hangover was intense. Bill, still in my bed, reached out to stroke my leg, but all I could think to do was chug what was left of my water bottle. I felt bad for not wanting to do more after I had called him back here. I considered sleeping with him to be nice, but I was still fuming, and the thought of doing anything sexual made me feel a little queasy. I hinted at how much I had to do that day. He just kept on stroking and kissing my neck. His desperation was not attractive, and I didn’t owe him anything right? Finally, he left in a huff. Shortly after, I heard our front door slam again—Alex had clearly spent the night. I fumed some more.
Christina busted into my room shortly after. “I don’t know what happened; I’m so so sorry; we didn’t even have sex; I’m so sorry.”
I kept up the angry act for a while, but the truth was, I knew I deserved what had happened. Though I’m still kind of proud of myself for pulling off that one man in the bathroom and one in the kitchen thing, I will never try it again. After all, I’m definitely no Bond, boys are never worth breaking up girl friends, and Karma is a bitch.