Hello friends. Pull up a chair, because it is your favorite time of the month: story time! Today's adventure goes back to my first trip to San Diego. I was in my early 20s when my friend's sister moved there and suggested we come visit. I had never been to southern California, and I was recently single so I figured why not?
I had decided on the plane ride over that California was a magical land filled with incredibly hot surfer boys who all wanted my special breed of Midwestern sarcasm. I was a short, curvy, brunette with real boobs who, to California boys, would be like finding an onion ring in your bag of french fries...rare, unusual, yet still delicious, mmmmm crunchy, deep fried goodness. Wait, what was I talking about? Oh right onion rings, yum.
The more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself that the best way to get over my recent ex was to get under someone else. I was 23 years old, and I had never had one of those "one night stands" everyone kept talking about. I thought, "Fuck it." I was on vacation so if I regretted my decision, at least I would never have to see him again.
When we arrived at her apartment on the beach, I noticed a backpack and some men's clothing/shoes on the couch near the door. I immediately asked, "Oh shit, did you get a boyfriend already? You've only been here a few weeks right?" She laughed it off, explaining that since she lives on the beach, several of her guys friends toss their belongings in her apartment while they surf.
As she was finishing her sentence, a tall, tan, half naked man came walking through her door. She introduced him to us, as I remembered my plan from earlier and thought, "He will do just fine." I told her to invite him out to the bar later so my liquid courage could ensure I would stick it to my ex by letting someone stick it to me.
That'll show him.
We headed out and the drinks were flowing, but my surfer boy was nowhere to be found. I scanned the bar, and realized there was actually a cute boy at the other end. How long had he been there, and why wasn't he attached to my face?
I walked down and started a conversation. Shots were poured and witty banter exchanged as the lights came on. I had forgotten bars close at 2 AM in California so there was no time for a sloppy, drunken, public display of affection. I suggested we go to the beach to make out because although I was about to be a dirty skanky slutty pants, I wanted it to be romantic. If I could help it, I was going to have "The Notebook" of one night stands.
We were rolling around on the beach while my phone kept ringing. I finally decided to answer as a brief moment of clarity reminded me that I didn't tell my friends I was leaving, and depending on how drunk they were, they may or may not be concerned with my disappearance.
I opened my phone (who remembers flip phones!? Fuck I'm old) when a voice yelled, "Where are you!?" I told her I was on the beach getting my groove back (that reference is for you Ashlee, my Stella loving friend) and not to worry. She simply replied with, "Stay put. We are coming to get you." I hung up, thinking, "Yeah okay. Good luck finding me on this giant beach...and wait. Who is 'we'?"
A few minutes to hours later, I am not really sure cause hammered knows no time restraints, I saw my friend, her sister, and someone else I couldn't make out heading my way. I heard my name being called by a man's voice so I got up and walked towards him.
Upon arrival I immediately heard, "What are you doing?"
"Um making out. What are YOU doing."
"Seriously who is that guy? Stop it. You need to send him on his way because you are mine."
Wait what? Who did this guy think he was storming over here telling me to ditch my future walk of shame because I belonged to him. I didn't even know him. What a cocky son of a... hot piece of ass. He was even cuter than I remembered. Shit. Maybe he was right. Was I his? For tonight at least I would be...
I ran back to my boy on the beach and told him there was an emergency at the house I had to go attend to right away. I am not even sure what excuse I used, but I am certain it involved either a horse or a monkey and a leaky toilet. Or was it a fire? The details are still a bit fuzzy. Either way, he was pretty much stranded since his friends left, and it's damn near impossible to catch a cab in any beach town in San Diego.
I returned to the apartment to finish what I had hoped to start in the first place. We ended up sleeping together that night, the next night, and pretty much every single night for the rest of my trip. I returned home with a sense of satisfaction, like I had completed a rite of passage I missed out on during college.
A few days later I received a Myspace (oh yeah) request from the boy. We kept in close contact for weeks, until we decided we really missed each other. I hadn't told any of my friends about my California conquest, so imagine their faces when I introduced them to my boyfriend who was also living with me, who had not existed the day before. I went from having a one night stand to having a live in boyfriend for several years. (Fun fact: he is actually the same guy I accidently made a porno with.)
I always imagined girls telling their friends about me like some slutty girl's urban legend..."My friend's sister's coworker's neighbor once slept with a guy the first night they met, and they are still together so there is still hope for you. I know you two hooked up in night club bathroom in Vegas, but he will call!"
Plus to this day we still joke that while I suck at one night stands, I am THAT good in bed, boys move across the country for me.