The Night of Nine Times

I alluded to this night a long time ago, but never fully explained. Maybe because parts of it were not my finest moments. Today, I am finally ready to share.

I took a trip to NYC in early December, where I had my first one-night stand (and second sex partner ever). It felt awesome. During my walk of shame, I imagined  slow-motion wind blowing my hair back while “Damn it Feels Good to be a Gangsta” played in the background.

There was only one tiny problem about this liberating night… I hardly remembered it. In fact, I wasn’t even sure whether or not we did it. Must have been great sex, I know.

To say that I was pissed is an understatement. I like sex. A lot. So to have it with someone new for the very first time and not remember?! Well, fuck me. From that moment, I was on a mission. I was going to get laid and remember it like a champion.

On a fine Monday evening, I returned to the same bar where I found my first one-night stand. My inebriation was evident. The wine from dinner, the full glass of bacon-infused whiskey, and the slew of antidepressants whose labels told me I shouldn’t be drinking were not playing nicely together. Oops.

About five minutes into a conversation with a cute guy at the bar, I grabbed him by the scarf and kissed him hard. Good god, if my sober self had seen this she would have punched me in the face. But maybe drunk self has it right, because I have never seen a man so turned on.

We chatted for a while and kissed, until he took me to another bar for water and grilled cheese (you know you’ve had too much when the man trying to get in your pants wants to sober you up). Everything was going great. His apartment was above the bar, and my plan to sneak into his bed was unfolding quite nicely. I ate my sandwich, drank my water, and then… made the least sexy move I have ever made.

I threw up. On me, on my friend, on him, everywhere. This part is a little hazy, but there was definitely vomit. Smelly, disgusting vomit.

At this point, it would have been fair to stop. Mood killed, no sex, time for bed. Instead, he took me upstairs to his apartment and helped me clean up (which apparently involved stripping me of my clothes, throwing them into the shower, and running it… wearing wet pants home the next day was lovely). After some tooth brushing, mouthwashing, and water, this guy was ready to jump me. That’s right- I projectile vomited on him, and he still wanted me. Right then and there.

Luckily, I was much more in-touch with reality after puking up a half ton of alcohol. This made the experience much more enjoyable. We literally didn’t sleep for more than a couple of hours. I have never seen a man ready to go so many times. It was absolutely unreal. It’s like after all the shit I had been through, this was my reward. A man with a real penis who was not afraid to use it.

I left in the morning and he got my number, but I never heard from nine times man again. That is…. until now. Yes, almost three months after our encounter, nine times man has managed to locate me on facebook and send me a friend request. What a strange, strange world we live in. Stay tuned.


**NOTE: I forgot a completely hilarious part of this story. As Mr. Nine Times stripped my vomit-soaked clothes from my body, he encountered an obstacle: a shiny broach on my shirt. Not sure what he did with it, but I vaguely remember bleeding profusely in the shower. It wasn’t until I was putting my clothes on in the morning that I saw the enormous gash on my upper thigh. There is still a scar. Ah, the memories.

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7 thoughts on “The Night of Nine Times

  1. themoonandme says:

    I love this story and totally relate to it. Separation does some strange things to a woman, and they’re not all bad! I fell into a fling with a guy who was a total nerd, and I fucking love nerds! They’re such a turn on for me. Anyway, I wasn’t long enough over the split so got a bit weird with him. But wait…the next guy, whoohooo. He reminded me that I can have damn great sex, it was just the husband was doing it all wrong! That was one crazy night. I’m glad to see you’re taking life by the horns, excuse the pun, you sound like a smashing person – I don’t know if you use the word smashing, but in Ireland, that’s top notch…top drawer, quality or just bleedin’ great!

    • Thanks! Glad you could relate. Isn’t it so strange having someone new?? You get used to something and you just assume it’s pretty good. Then BOOM, you see that you were wrong the whole time 🙂

  2. Jared says:

    Ha, your candor kills me. And some guys are just dedicated to “the cause”. I’d say nine times after projectile vomit and cleaning said vomit falls under the dedicated category. Good work, lady and gentleman.

  3. singlenocats says:

    LOL! I cannot believe you threw up on him! And then he STILL wanted to hook up with you! You’ve got mad skills, girl! 🙂

  4. KCsaid says:

    Haha! This is such a great story. I love your blog, thanks for cheering me up!

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