Date #36: The 2am Idea

I woke up.

I woke up grateful that I did the math and realized I only need to do around seven dates a month or so to finish this project by my 23rd birthday.

I was definitely going to need a little while to comprehend the stupidity that is yours truly, ladies and gentlemen.

Let's start with where I woke up.

BRIAN: Are you kidding?
ME: Do you hate me?
BRIAN: Hey, it's your funeral.

Three hours after waking up, I was sucking bad grilled chicken at NC and trying to make sense of what I'd done. Brian was there for the post-mortem.

ME: I don't know what I was thinking.
BRIAN: You don't even have a clue.
ME: Well...
BRIAN: Because I definitely wouldn't hate you if I could laugh at you. You can't really hate someone whose life you find mortifying.
ME: My life isn't mortifying enough already?
BRIAN: A best friend's life can never be too mortifying.
ME: I think it all started with me thinking it would be a good idea to start texting people at 2am.

Here's the funny thing about me: I don't drink.

I don't drink...because I don't need to drink.

At around 2am, if I'm awake, the stupidest ideas usually pop into my head. Ideas that would normally only pop into the head of someone who is either bipolar, or plastered off their hoo-hah.

Previously on 2am, I've...

...Imagined a hit sitcom starring Kirstie Alley as a tranvestite.
...Gone as far as dialing the number to buy one of those egg pans that you can flip without spillage.
...Eaten an entire carton of Edie's strawberry ice cream--and no, I wasn't stoned either.

On this 2am, I randomly started texting.

For some reason, we're awfully brave when we text, aren't we?

People whose numbers I would never have the guts to dial I freely text flirty and even confrontational messages to--as long as it's 2am.

This night, one ex-boyfriend, two ex-friends, one good friend, and one person who should not have gotten a text from me all got messages.

Cut to me an hour later laying in bed texting to the good friend previously mentioned with the phrase: "What did I just do?!?!?!"

TURNER: You never answered me. What did you do?
ME: I don't think you want to know.
TURNER: You slept with Connor.
ME: No, I wasn't that brave.
TURNER: You slept with Charlie?
ME: Why would that be scandalous?
TURNER: You slept with me? Was I good?
ME: Ha ha.
TURNER: So who was it?

You remember how the last entry ended right?

ME: I think I found what I'm looking for.

Again, something a drunk person would say--or something I would say at 2am.

MICHAEL: Shut up and take your pants off, queer.

Yeah, that should have been a red flag.

Let me explain...

I texted Michael--Army Guy--the following:

Hey, just wanted to see how you're doing.

He texted back.

Come over, I want to play.

I texted back.

Okay.

Because I thought, whatever. I'm in need of physical attention. Celibacy sucks. Nobody loves me. People are mad at me. I can't do anything right. I want to have sex with someone whose been in the United States military. I want to do something stupid. I want pretzels dipped in onion dip. I'm not right in the head. Oh God, is it 2am?

Then Michael opened his door wearing only black boxer briefs and I said:

I think I found what I'm looking for.

Which, at that moment, couldn't have been truer.

I would have been happy to let the whole thing go, but after my lunch with Brian where I divulged that I had done it with one of his semi-exes, I got yet another text from Michael.

Let's have dinner tonight and then get nasty.

Oh Christ...

Do people still refer to having sex as being "nasty"? Because I thought that went out with the Latin explosion and Alicia Silverstone.

I did agree to meet up with Michael, but only to set him straight.

We went for drinks down near his school, and of course, he looked cute.

I'll admit I did consider that it might not be so bad to have a f**k buddy, but then another part of me remembered that during "the nasty" he had told me I "f**k like a Marine," and even though I was admittedly flattered, I also knew I could never do anything with him again.

It would just be too awkward.

He sat down and we got to talking.

I explained to him that I tend to make bad choices at 2am, and while I had oodles of fun, what happened the previous night could not happen again.

MICHAEL: Why not?
ME: Well, because that's just not who I am.
MICHAEL: Are you saying you're, like, religious or something?
ME: No, I mean, I was celibate, obviously that's over, but it's more about me looking for something deeper in my life.
MICHAEL: Okay.
ME: I'm glad we can be adults about this.
MICHAEL: Yeah.

Silence.

MICHAEL: Do you want to do it one more time for old time's sake?
ME: Sure.

Turn your judging eyes away. It's not like we did it in a back alley.

FRIEND: No, but that would have been hot.
ME: Are you kidding?
FRIEND: All the best Queer as Folk sex scenes take place in back alleys.
ME: Well, I'm not Brian, I'm more of a Michael.
FRIEND: You're a bottom?
ME: ANYWAY--it was nice. We got closure. Both of us did. I think we can refrain from ever having that happen again.
FRIEND: It was really bad the second time and now you're not attracted to him anymore, right?
ME: Pretty much.

Still, as a I drove home--for a second time--I wasn't as ashamed of myself. After all, I'm allowed to make mistakes.

Big mistakes.

Huge mistakes.

But still, I'm allowed. I'm 22 for godsakes. Cut me some slack.

Come on, that Marine thing? That's hot. Admit it.

...Off to church I go.