Monday
Oct262009
Dating Horror Stories: Carly, Revisited
Monday, October 26, 2009 at 9:00AMWhile Carly might not quite get the 300 words or less thing, girl knows how to TELL a story. Listen to this nightmare:
It was the night before one of my best friend's wedding, in which I played the part of a bridesmaid. I was sitting in my apartment getting things ready for the big day, painting my nails etc. when the boyfriend called. He wanted me to come over to his place and hang out. At first I told him no, because I knew that I may end up drinking a few cocktails and doing "other things" that would disrupt my sleep for the night. In turn this would make me tired and would affect my performance for the next day and every young lady knows that you cannot handle a bridezilla effectively unless you bring your "A-game" to the event. I especially know this because I have been a bridesmaid seven times.
As much as I fought against the idea, I finally caved and decided to go over. When I talked to him on the phone he seemed perfectly normal. His speech was fine, he wasn't talking weird, nothing, just the usual antics which I dealt with on a daily basis. Well, something happened between 8:00pm and 9:00pm that night and things seemed to go awry. I walk into his house, which he shared with his brother who also happened to be home, and had invited his girlfriend over as well. I immediately knew the night was NOT going to go well judging by the look on my semi-specially educated boyfriend's face.
We walked into the room where his brother and girlfriend were sitting and he asked me if I wanted a beer to which I immediately responded YES to because I knew I was going to need it by the looks of him and the horrified looks on the faces of his brother and his brother's girlfriend. He walked out of the room and I asked them what the hell happened in the last hour. APPARENTLY, he had some super-human ability to hide insane drunkenness very well to which I was not aware, because he had been drinking since the early afternoon and it was now somewhere in the ballpark of 9pm. My guess is he knew I wouldn't come over if I knew he was drunk which would majorly inconvenience him and his plans to get laid, so he did a DAMN good job of acting sober to lure me into his drunken clutches of evilness.
He returned to the room and you could literally hear crickets as we sat there waiting for him to say or do something super inappropriate, or do something. Sure enough it didn't take long. Around thirty minutes into my visit I figured if I could some how figure out a way to leave now, I would still get a good night of sleep, he would hopefully not remember any of his shenanigans in the morning and all would be right with the world. WRONG. Just as I was getting ready to say I should probably go he grabbed my hand and said, "No, please don't go, please stay, I just want you to be beside me." I thought that was really cute and sweet so I AGAIN caved and agreed to stay over with the exception that there would be no hanky panky. He agreed, I assumed we had an understanding, and up the stairs we went.
I laid down on my side of the bed and he laid down on his and before I knew it he had renegotiated with himself on what we had agreed to earlier and hands started going places where they were not welcome. I shoved him away and threatened to leave and he quickly gathered his wits and retreated to his side of the bed. Then he simply put his arms around me and hugged me, which again I thought was cute...until about 3am.
It was hot as hell in his room and I was sweating like a whore in church so I thought nothing of the wetness that was surrounding me ENTIRELY. I got out of bed to use the restroom and when I walked back into the bedroom I witnessed a horrific tragedy. THE ENTIRE bed was SOAKED. I convinced myself that it HAD to be sweat, it just HAD to be. I walked over to the bed and smelled the sheets. NOPE. NOT SWEAT. I then witnessed a 26-year-old male take his piss-soaked shorts OFF and throw them against the closet, where they smacked and splattered piss everywhere. There he lay in his own urine...naked.
I think I may have blacked out for a few minutes from having had to witness MY boyfriend roll around in his own pee although I eventually came to my senses and pulled my sh*t together. I thought about what I should do very intensely because I didn't want to embarrass him, but I sure as hell was not laying back down in the urine soaked bed, I didn't like him THAT much, no way. So I sat down on the edge of the bed very gingerly as to not wake the beast, unfortunately to no avail. He sat up and I JUMPED up. I looked at him and said, "WOW, it's uh, really hot in here, I am sweating profusely. Let's go downstairs and sleep where it is cool I will meet you down there." He gave me a confused look and agreed with a nod of the head.
From the couch in the living room I could see him feverishly ripping the sheets off the bed....he KNEW what he had done and he knew I knew, but in an attempt to save face (a much failed attempt) he tried to hide the "evidence". I sh*t you not when I say twenty plus minutes later he came downstairs fully clothed in pajamas and laid down beside me like nothing had happened. After laying there in silence for a solid hour I stood up and started to gather up my stuff. This dude was wacky and I needed to get the hell out FAST. I mean he had already peed on me, I was afraid as to what might happen next, PLUS I was exhausted. My plan was to get my stuff and quietly sneak out and never talk to him again. AGAIN, a FAILED attempt.
He sat up and asked me where I was going. I told him I had a headache (really I was still soaked in piss and in no mood for questions) and that I needed to go home and get MY medicine, because I knew he would offer me some of his. This time my slight fabrication was a complete success and the crisis situation was averted. I made it out the door, I made it home, I made it bed and I made it to the wedding as planned the next day. I never talked to him again and I rarely saw him on the random occasion he would rear his ugly head at the bar I worked at. I imagine he knew exactly what ended our tumultuous relationship.
Nearly two years later, I was talking to my friend Annie and I was telling her this story. It never dawned on me until AFTER I finished the story that she had the same last name as my former flame. It was her cousin. I am sure he is now fully aware of why we are no longer together. Annie also informed me that he is recently married. I would like to send my condolences to his new wife and also let her know that it would be who of her to wear rain gear to bed.
Seriously, I wish you could meet this girl in person. She's awesome.
Read all the Dating Horror Stories here, or, submit your own (in 300 words or less) to thenakedredhead (at) gmail (dot) com.
Reader Comments (6)
OMG .... Carly has THE BEST stories .... though DubiousMa had a jewel back there .... wow .... that is yucky!!!
Ugh. Gross. I don't even know how I would react in that situation.
You have no time to react you just have to GET OUT NOW!!!!!
I wish I could meet her in person as well. I dig her loquacicity.
Yes, that's a word...now.
"It would be who of her"? How about "behoove her"? Seriously, do people even consider what they are writing and whether or not it makes sense?
Ahahahaha...either that, or it's the best typo ever! I suppose I should have edited a bit more. Wow. Still making me giggle. No, no, you're right. It's bad. I really, really shoe dove had caught it before I posted it. :D