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Andrew is a guy I met at a party a few months ago. Might I insert here that he is incredibly good-looking. It's a good thing that he is so incredibly good-looking because he is also prone to doing many incredibly stupid things. Like punching through windows while drunk. I suppose it wasn't all his fault that he decided to punch through a window though. I guess half of it was Bobby's fault since he punched out the first window, and, well, monkey see, monkey do.
In any case, last Saturday I had wanted to sober up after a few cups of beer, some marijuana, and a close brush with the police so I stopped by Bobby's apartment. Andrew was in the process of throwing his guts up because he was 1) incredibly drunk and 2) bleeding profusely. I jump in to save the day and baby him a little and we start the process of hooking up (read: spiralling downwards). Because I've got a screwed up life, though, it just so happens that the cuts on his hand were really deep and painful and that he was going to go into shock.
Wonderful.
Here I am, on my way home (and trying very hard to get there with a blonde bombshell of a man on my arm), and now I'm met with a guy who seems to be going into sporadic episodes of violent trembling and turning blue.
Great.
But in any case, I couldn't just leave him in a house full of two men passed out from alcohol and pizza, a couple of high school juniors who were giving each other blowjobs, and some invisible people who were at IHOP (and god knows when they'd come back). So I stuck by him trying to calm him down. Of course this involved more kissing because, well, we're horny teenagers.
'More kissing' eventually resulted in the undoing of several key buttons, hickies the shape of Texas, and being walked in on while participating in a few unlady-like sexual favors (read: fellatio). It should also be mentioned that he was still bleeding profusely and I ended up looking like I had just committed a murder. All over my white halter nonetheless.
Ultimately there is more to the story (like how my mother freaked out when she saw the eight hickies making a diagonal line across my neck or how there were blood blots all over my clothes), and, there is a pseudo resolution (like how Baptists turn me off). But I won't get into that here. That's a story to be told on my livejournal. |
