Oops, I Did It AGAIN

So, I acted as Cornell's plus one at this little cocktail party. Things went well: I looked great, my hair turned out surprisingly perfect, and he gave me a huge hug at the door when I arrived. And he was once again, wonderfully complementry and funny, as I expected. First stop: the bar. Strangely enough, they decided to serve the cocktails in giant glasses. I remained appropriate, calm, and sober for the duration of the party. But my lack of dinner and four enormous cocktails left me feeling pretty good when Cornell, a fellow coworker and I decided to take the party elsewhere.

We went to a restaurant, where Cornell and I split an appetizer. The boys insisted I have another cocktail, which I somewhat reluctantly agreed to. The other guy, Middlebury, decided it would be a great idea to order shots. Not to appear weak, I took mine like the champ I always think I am. The guys paid the bill and we went on to our next location.

This is where things get fuzzy.

All I can really remember is being in the back area of a bar I frequent regularly. Middlebury was floating around, I stood with Cornell. The next thing I remember is pulling him towards me by his tie and essentially raping him at the bar. Well, maybe not rape. I don't recall him protesting. But quite the classy move on my part. I was hoping my days of sloppy public makeouts were over. Wrong per usual.

Next thing I know, I'm naked and in his bed. We didn't have sex, but we (must have) messed around. I do remember him telling me I was hot on at least one occassion. And I think I tried calling him out on being a player, and he told me that was not true. Oh, the lines I fall for.

Eventually we passed out together, me obviously in no shape to drive home.

I awoke the next morning right around dawn, close to Cornell and needing the bathroom. I got up to go but I figured it was too early to leave so after I flushed, I got back in bed. Unfortunately, I couldn't sleep. Cornell turned over and spooned me for a while, but once he moved further away (and I saw the sun was coming up over the buildings outside), I crawled out of bed. I tried to be sneaky and not wake him, hoping to avoid an awkward goodbye.

My plan failed. Surprise!

I looked around and tried to gather my things, but I could not locate the jacket I had worn to the cocktail party over my dress. Speaking of dress, where was that? I spotted it across the room on the floor. My tights were strewn on a chair, and my coat was carelessly thrown on the couch. Shoes were easy to locate. But I still couldn't find that jacket. Cornell woke up and asked me if I was leaving.

Duh.

I told him about my missing jacket and he told me to turn on the lights. I did, but my jacket remained elusive. As did my black lace boyshorts. I told him I just had to go but he told me to take my shit with me. I told him this jacket was not find-able and that perhaps it was at the bar. He reminded me that I was pretty drunk the night before. Ouch? I threw my coat on, said see ya later (there's that awkward good-bye), and let the door slam behind me.

I was traumatized to be missing this jacket, since I had purchased it only a few days before. I prayed all of the next day for a text that it was under his couch or behind his bed, but none came. I called the bar before making a move. No jacket there. Finally, a little more than 24 hours after leaving his apartment, I inquired. No jacket at his place either. Evidently I threw $98 and my dignity away at the bar. Cornell was nice about it, always great at covering up his jerk-dom. I also told him that the other 'thing' I had left (panties), I wasn't concerned about. He'd figured. Thank goodness I at least wore sexy underwear.

So that was that. I did it again. I got blackout drunk and hooked up with a guy. But this one I actually LIKE(D) and would have definitely TRIED to play hard to get with. That is, had I had 5 fewer cocktails. WHYYY do I always do this to myself? Get wasted, aggressive, and he now probably thinks I am a whore. Which for all I know, he thought before anyway. But he just acts like such a sweetheart. He is still a frat guy, I suppose. And he did go MIA for an entire month. At least I have comfort in the fact that I most likely will never see him again, unless he initiates contact. Of course I am hoping he will, forgiving my drunken antics and for some reason wanting to hang out with me (and my apparently hot self) again. I want to think he actually might like me? As a friend? Piece of ass? Even more unlikely, given the whole disappearing act. I guess my worst fear has come true, and he is in fact, just like that guy who dropped off the face of the earth after getting (at least some of) what he wanted.