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Confessions of a Jerk: The One Night Stand

To many, the One Night Stand is a right of passage.  To others it's a Scarlett Letter to be buried, covered up and never spoken of again, yet others call the One Night Stand a typical Tuesday night.  Before this particular One Night Stand, I'd had one other… That one wasn't really fun, just awkward.  Anyway the One Night Stand, for which I can be called a “Jerk,” began interestingly enough…

It was a night like many others at that time: Friday night out with friends and drinks in hand.  I believe that particular Friday we were celebrating a friend's birthday.

During this time I was dealing with some heart break.  A girl I was really into pretty much rejected me.  She was pretty much using me for the easy sex, which in retrospect is freaking cool, and didn't want anything long term… I'd later find out she was engaged to someone else, but that's not really central to our story, kids.

Needless to say, I was feeling lonely… Lonely and a good bit “fired up.”  I wanted to take a girl home and, well, for lack of a better term, fuck her.  Hard.  That's it.  Simple.  Carnal.  Primal.  I didn't really care who I took home either.  I looked around the bar at all the twenty something woo girls, the older boy devouring cougars and thirty somethings that felt they were too good for the joint, but had nowhere better to be… There were choices to make, people.

I finished my beer and offered to get a round of shots for my table of friends.  I head up to the bar, place my order and that's when I make eyes with a gal at the end of the bar, who's there with a friend.  The friend was a lot hotter, but my line of sight scoped out the sluttier of the two.  I'd found my target.  After making intense eye contact, while waiting for my order, I return the shots to my friends and we down them dutifully.  Not three seconds after burning my gullet from, what I believe to be, a Dead Nazi, I walk to the end of the bar and say “Hello.”  Ding, ding.  It's on.

The girl, whose name I can't remember, who I'll call “Mindy,” smiled and greeted me right back.  There was magnatism as we locked eyes and conversation.  I should take a moment to paint the picture here.  Mindy was tall… She was, er, heroically proportioned.  She was a bigger gal, a good bit bigger than what I usually go for.  However, with the help of shots, beers and some Hendrick's and Tonic I found her quite pleasing.  To be fair, I'd have made eye contact with her regardless of my level of inebreation.

We talked for a good while, Mindy ordered me a drink, we continued talking.  Talking turned into some “below the bar” antics, which I'd like to say I hid well… It turns out I didn't, as my friends chided me later for it.  With, um, heavy drinking and heavy petting in full effect, it was time to get to the business end of this raunchy courtship.

We were dancing and that's when I asked her to come home with me.  Mindy then whispered into my ear, or so I thought, when she bit it instead.  I knew then, if I didn't before, that my night was going end in ‘dirty' fashion.

With the night winding down and would be conquest in-arm, I was ready to head home.  Without getting into the details Mindy's friend had an objection and there was a huge bar fight, yet, I cannot be called the Urban Dater if i can't make it out of a bar with my One Night Stand in tow!

We head home, when I pull in to the garage I notice that a friend's car is parked and not my roommates… Would this friend still be up at almost 3am?  Undaunted, I bring my “fun” buddy up the stairs and see my friend, Peter, on the couch.  I make a mental note that my heroically proportioned one night stand will have to go through two “security checks:” my roommate and my buddy.  Duly noted!

We get to my room and I waste little time getting to the “business end of the evening.”  Clothes fall off, no, they get ripped off… At this point, I'm not going to spice it up on the details.  If you want a blogger that does that, read Jack from Brooklyn. The man is a poet… I am simply not so articulate.  Anyway, as I was writing… Things are going well, we're touching each other, groping really, everything feels right, that's when Mindy goes down, pulls off my pants and does me the service that, really, I don't deserve given that it's a One Night Stand… Simply put, this girl was amazing in her skill, which is saying something given how I'd had to drink!  When she was done I wanted to reciprocate.  I got down there and, I hate to admit, I had a “difficult” time of it… Mindy mercifully pulled me from the depths and things continued… We went to sleep.  Before we did, though, I set my alarm for 6am, roughly two hours later… Why?

If Mindy was going to do the walk of shame, I thought, she'd need to do it with my friend and roommate still asleep.

The 6am wake up call booms through my room, startling us both bleary eyed and awake, if not exactly alert.  Mindy yawns and suggests, “Oh, can't  you just turn it off a bit longer?” Before she can finish her thought, I have hopped out of bed with the agility of a Gazelle.  I'm pulling on my shorts and my jeans, “Uh, Mindy, I've gotta help my Grandmother move.” She replied, “Dude, you said your family lived in Oregon!” As I'm fussing with my zipper, I glance over at Mindy… She's on to me, but I persist. “Mindy, my Grandmother splits time between here and Oregon… Look! I just need to help her okay???” I said quite irritated.  As we make our way out I instruct her to step lightly and carefully so as not to wake my friend or my roomie.  We get passed my roommate's room, no problem.  We head downstairs and try to make it passed my friend… As we make our way, stepping, as if on air, I look over at my friend, Peter, and notice his eyes slit open. Oh, that fucker!  He sees what I brought home and I have failed to conceal my guilty pleasure.  We make our way out, mission failed, I'm feeling deflated.  We get to my car, our conversation is pretty light at this point, as I dodge questions about helping my Granny move…

We get to Mindy's place, where I drop her off.  Mindy gives me a hug and a peck on the cheek and scrawls her number on the back of one of my business cards she found in the center console.  “Call me, yeah? ”  I nod and reply “Oh, sure! I had so much fun!”

We part ways and I speed off into the rising sun… I never called her back.

I could have cut this post in half, I realize, probably by three quarters.
In summary: I took a hefty girl home, slept with her, failed to go down on her because I couldn't handle her, womanly aroma, I tried to hide her from my friends and then told her I'd call her back and never did.  For that, Children of the Corn, I am a jerk.

Author profile

Alex is the founder and managing editor at the Urban Dater. Alex also runs: DigiSavvy, for which he is the co-founder and Principal. Alex has a lot on his mind. Will he ever get it right? If he does, he'll be sure to write.

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5 Comments

  1. Well @ least you admit you were a jerk – not for the one night stand – but for feeling the shame… As long as you didn't pretend to or say 'I love you' there nothing to be ashamed about… Unless you said it – lol

  2. No, there was no such pronouncement of love to be had that night, dear. Still, though, I did have quite a good time. =)

  3. This is bad writing. "For lack of a better term fuck her" ????? There are many, MANY terms for sex. So don't say stupid and cliche phrases like that.

  4. Yes that is the actions of a jerk, but hey I think we have all been there, Female to male. Male to female and I am not suggesting it all in between the sheets. We have times in our lives where we like to just do and not be responsible, unfortunately it does not work like that. Someone is hurt when we act for our own personal needs.

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