One of my buddies -- who is a film major but whom I know quite well through my acting guy friends -- was celebrating his 21st birthday, so I went to the house he shares with a bunch of my favourite men and drank with all of them. Basically all the males in my (real) class ended up coming over, along with a few cool chicks, and we all shot the shit and made merry for hours and hours.
I dig these people so hard. Not only are they some of my best friends, but there are also some subtle sexual undertones to my relationships with each of them that make things interesting. Some are more pronounced than others; Scott, for instance (no real names), will openly greet me with a big kiss on the lips, Stewart is very touchy-feely, and none of the others have qualms about hardcore bumping and grinding when we dance.
Of course, things get awkward when multiple friends start exaggerating said undertones at the exact same time.
Which is what happened last night.
I'd come to the party figuring I might hook up with Scott, because honestly, that shit has been years in the making. Things were mildly successful at the start: there was some sexually-charged dancing that really heated up once everyone else had cleared out of the room for another round of tequila shots (we were both pleasantly drunk enough as it was), but Murray -- the birthday boy -- cut in shortly afterward and started getting quite handsy. Scott, being a good bro, allowed him to take over and dipped after a while.
To my displeasure, I soon discovered that while I'd been dallying with Scott (now gone) and Murray (whom I love to pieces and have absolutely no interest in banging), Stewart (whom I would totally get ten kinds of nasty with) had been laying it on thick with another one of the girls at the party. And this is where, objectively, I have to laugh at myself, because the instant I saw Stewart flirting with this perfectly cute-looking girl, the first thing that popped into my head was:
But that can't be right. She's bigger than me.
To clarify: this girl was not big at all. But as distorted as my body image is, even I knew that she was heavier than me. And I couldn't comprehend why Stewart would possibly be so into a larger (NOT large) girl.
Haven't we been over this, Self? You know that skinny ≠ attractive. You know that in numerous scenarios, skinny is actually UNattractive. So what gives? Stop being neurotic about this.
But I don't understand.
Well, she's pretty. In fact, she probably looks a far sight better than you.
Naw. I look fine. You know, not ill.
You never thought you looked ill. What makes you think you can tell how other people perceive you now?
They're going to bang. You know, when I was a freshman, Stewart and I almost banged. We came so close.
And then you met B.
Yes, that was the night I met B.
You were also at a much healthier weight then.
I'm at a healthy weight now. Or I look like I am, at least.
God, you're insane. I can't talk to you right now.
Well, that's going to be problematic, seeing as we're the same person.
Well, I need another drink, then.
A tequila shot ensued.
So then I went back into what had become the dancing room, which Murray had temporarily vacated, and the next thing I knew I was grinding a man we'll call Ryan because he looks like a hotter version of Ryan from "The Office." I only met Ryan at the beginning of this summer. He intrigues me, being quieter than Scott and Murray, but no less amiable. He's big into music and pontificating, and he's a total sweetheart.
Chemistry was beginning to happen when once again Murray came in and stole the show, as was his right, it being his birthday. I was still slightly miffed (not with Murray but with the situation), but decided not to let Ryan slip away as easily as I had Scott. Especially seeing as Ryan was a new commodity, which made him more interesting and infinitely easier to lose. Every fifteen minutes or so I would shoot him a smile or brush against his side.
Then I climbed into a dryer, curled up into a ball, and shut the door. Everyone marveled. It was pretty sweet.
Eventually, things began to die down: a small group of us (myself, Murray, Ryan, another "one of the guys" girls named Leigh, Leigh's friend, and Leigh's boyfriend) determined to migrate back to Ryan's apartment just under 10 blocks away. I'd driven (albeit unnecessarily) to Murray's place, and decided it would be easier to drive back to Ryan's rather than walk. I announced this to Ryan, and he sprinted to my car.
Just then, out of nowhere, Stewart and his Femme Du Jour approached me.
"Hey you! Cute girl!" said FDJ, running over to me as I was getting ready to shut the driver's side door. "You're not driving, are you?"
"Oh," I said, smiling. "Really, I'm fine. It's been a while since I've had anything to drink."
"Sweetheart, no," said Stewart. "Really, please don't."
Is this about the dryer thing? Because you know I do that kind of shit when I'm sober, too. "I promise I'm okay to drive," I insisted. "It's only a few straight blocks, I know exactly how to get there, and I feel perfectly lucid."
"Listen, you don't seem drunk, but... I just really don't think it's a good idea." FDJ looked at me imploringly.
Fuck you, bitch. "I..." She might be right. I feel fine, but why risk it?
"Seriously," said Stewart.
"What is this, Stewart, a PSA?"
"I can drive," volunteered Ryan.
"Can you?" asked FDJ.
"He's had more to drink than me!" I sputtered indignantly.
Stewart ignored me. "You'll drive her, Ryan?"
"If you're okay with it," said Ryan. He looked at me. "Do you want me to drive?"
I considered. Stewart's bitch really had a point. I would probably be totally okay driving, but there was a reason something had compelled the two of them had come over here. Half an ounce of pride was not worth a possible DUI -- or worse.
"Yeah," I sighed. "That's probably a good idea."
We Chinese fire-drilled that shit.
"Just don't kill her, 'cause she's really cute and I like her shoes," said FDJ. I managed a laugh. Fucking bitch. I like the guy who pinched your butt half an hour ago. I didn't even like him that much until he pinched your butt. Now you've just confused the hell out of me and you're ruining my perfect little anorexic paradigm.
"Thanks, AJ." Stewart smiled at me. Yeah, fuck you too. Fucking try to babysit me. "AJ's had three shots over the past four hours; she must be plastered."
Eventually we got back to Ryan's place just fine, Ryan rolled a spliff with expert precision, and I watched the rest of the crew smoke it while we made casual conversation. I felt so lucky to have friends who didn't judge me for not smoking or pressure me to get high. I was just as much one of them, with or without a joint in my hand. Reflecting, I also felt lucky to have friends (and girls I'd never even met before) who cared about me so much that they were willing to start a fight with me rather than risk letting me drive drunk.
Things wound down, and I decided to head back with Murray (as we both lived extraordinarily near one another). Leigh and her plus two had taken off, and it was just the three of us -- me, Murray, and Ryan -- alone in Ryan's living room.
"You ready to go?" I asked Murray, who was approaching the door.
"Yeah."
"Okay," I said to Ryan, and made to hug him goodnight. Maybe a peck on the lips, too, since that had happened earlier. Suddenly, effortlessly, said "peck" turned into a full-on snogfest, initiated by Ryan but welcomed by me. This felt really good, but Murray was still in the room, and I needed to break away from this without making it seem like I wasn't enjoying it.
I tried to break away. Twice before I was actually successful. My mouth just kept coming back.
"I really should go," I whispered to Ryan, and he kissed me one more time before I said, "I'll see you later."
I think this is one of the key reasons I like hanging out with guys so much more than girls. I love sexual tension. There's always the possibility of an even more heightened intimacy, and flirting is just too much fun. Sexuality is such a powerful, beautiful thing; I don't need to have sex to be sexual. There are so many ways to explore it and -- fuck, I just love guys.
Dudes, man.
No comments:
Post a Comment