Hot off the Press

By on February 23, 2005

One Night Stands: They come and go.

“It’s 9:00 on a Saturday. The regular crowd shuffles in…”

It’s 11:00 on a Saturday. I’m wasted from my tonic and gin.

After sitting in classes all week, where life seems structured and majority of your time is spent cramped behind a computer screen, lacking human contact, you suddenly find yourself transported into this hormone driven, high energy, alcohol induced carnival that is the weekend. You sweat out your frustrations as your stressors become dance moves at the club, and your need for physical interaction attacks full force.

You morph into an uninhibited animal ready to feed your ravenous sexual appetite. You’re literally transported into an alternate universe dressed to impress where everyone is swept away by music, pheromones and cocktails of choice. The tight quarters force the crowd of sexy strangers to inevitable full body contact in this escape from reality.

You may find yourself sucking face with that person from math class who will now be known as “Toad’s Hottie” in your phone, if you’re lucky enough to get their number. You hardly know anything about them, other than how they kiss, which may not even be accurate after all the alcohol.

The random club hookup is a great buzz, since pressures are lifted in the public surroundings. It’s easier to acknowledge physical attraction when you’re in the safe zone masked by alcohol and an adrenaline rush.

Things heat up a little. Maybe you’ve had a chance to rip on your math professor’s pocket protector during the shuttle ride home. Either way, you feel intrigued for what the night may bring. You return to campus with the classic, “Uh, so what are you doing tonight? Do you want to see my room?”

Realizing they’re probably not asking with hopes to show off their decorating skills or introduce you to their super cool roommate, you reply you are available, sealing the unwritten code of agreement that you will hook up.

You head back to their place, which is coincidentally empty, and you sneak to their bathroom to ‘freshen up.’ You return to their bedroom, still in club attire, and proceed with the routine. It’ll be a little awkward at first but after they change their away message, you move to the bed and suggest watching a movie. You channel surf, fidget and giggle until you choose to turn off the lights to ‘see the TV better’. Eventually your faces bump into each other and you continue what you started at the club.

Then, BAM! Buzz kill. Reality hits.

You see them in class. There is no techno beat. Your water bottle takes place of your beer and the fluorescent lights beam brightly as if to shine a spot light on your little secret. ‘We’ve seen each other naked’ is all you can think to yourself, as you replay the past weekend’s activities in your mind.

This all too familiar situation leads to the overall looming question, “What now?” When the cushion of the weekend becomes more like a pain in the butt, the post hookup encounter seems to leave things unclear. In the aftermath, intentions may be confused and a logical solution doesn’t always add up.

The approach is up to you, keeping in mind in most cases if you didn’t talk to each other before, not too much may change even after your special sleepover. Maturely acknowledging each other’s existence without forcing a fake effort to be more than the night you shared, seems to be popular post booty call behavior. Remember, you were there for a reason. You saw, you conquered, and hopefully, you came.


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