Week Six: Bonus Backstories Included!
Hello, everyone! Welcome back to another video.
This week (our last week together *cry*) I'm going to write about something I just recently got over that happened less than a year ago. I saved this story for last 1) because I thought of it last, 2) it'll probably be the longest, since I remember it pretty well, and 3) it will most likely (hopefully) be the most interesting of all my posts.
What you are about to witness is an event filled with awkward moments, a backstory being used as a sorry attempt to justify past actions, and multiple points where I decided I was having a bad time.
So yeah, I strongly encourage eating as you read through this because it is going to be a very. Long. Story... And I always eat when I readfanfics and stuff online, so just eat during this.
[Skip to Part Three to get to the embarrassing stuff.]
Without further ado...
Part One: The Backstory
I didn't know what I was missing.
Okay, I'll start off by saying that I think I'm a pretty loyal person. When I like someone, there's really nothing to worry about. I'm pretty great at just sticking around for a long time and not doing anything that might even slightly bother the person I'm with. This included going to parties. During the first half of my freshman year, I was involved in a somewhat long distance relationship (we were 45 minutes apart, but, for two people who didn't have cars, that was a lot of distance). After about a month of school, I had miraculously made a few friends and one night they invited me to go to a karaoke event. That is all they said. Of course, I reply, "Yeah sure, why not?" because wow people want to hang out with me?
Mind you, I'm someone who dresses for maximum comfort about 98 percent of the time, so I had on giant sweat pants, long fuzzy socks and a hoodie with a random T-shirt underneath.
Karaoke Night was fun, I even went up and sang a song with a friend and sounded terrible like everyone else (I mean, no offense...but we all sucked, so it's fine).
At around 10 p.m. everyone was ready to go. I had heard some talk about a party they were considering going to, but I figured that was something they'd go to after I split from them. But then, at the last minute, one of them asked me if I wanted to join, and, in all honesty, I did want to. I'd had yet to attend a party and, quite frankly, felt like I was missing out on a significant part of the college experience. However, being the freshman I was, I couldn't bring myself to accept the offer right away.
What if I didn't feel like dancing?
What if someone made fun of what I was wearing?
What if I became awkward and anti-social?
What if I never got invited out again?
What would my (then) boyfriend think?
It's cold out.
They told me none of that mattered, though, so I took off my socks, put them in my pocket (not sure why) and somewhat nervously walked with them to a bus stop. On the way there, I had second thoughts again and legitimately decided to go back to my dorm.
"Guys, I think I'm going to head back after all."
"What? Why?"
"I just don't feel like I'm dressed well enough and [insert whatever else I said that ultimately did not work]."
They basically forbade me from leaving. They tore me down. Like, I was partying with them whether I liked it or not. Too late.
Yeah, they're actually pretty great.
Long story short, after an adventure that involved walking blocks upon blocks with only street lights to guide us, getting lost a few times (even with Google Maps), being misled by people on an app called Yik Yak, shivering, and running into other friends (whom I sort of knew), we found a party.
And, once stepping over the threshold that was the doorway of some random house, I was welcomed to a world of free *beverages*, stuffy, dark basements with colorful lights, *beverage* pong, a lack of personal space, people who did not mind that lack of personal space, music that started off too loud (but became bearable as the night went on), and boys who stood by the wall and stalked potential prey from afar.
It was foreign.
It was new.
It was fascinating.
So this is a party.
I remember witnessing two strangers approach each other, introduce themselves, dance together...and then proceed to have an intense make-out session against the wall of stalkers. I had no idea how to feel about it...
I was confused...shocked...excited...
(I literally have no shame. I am writing all of this.)
A part of me wished to know how it felt to meet an attractive stranger and then kiss them that same night.
Of course, I did no such thing. It was too foreign a concept for me to actually consider trying. And I was involved with someone anyway. I settled for going back and forth between dancing with my group of friends and watching *beverage* pong.
It was a great night, and I ended up making a lot of friends that I still talk to now (three of whom I currently live with).
First party: success.
Part Two: The Backstory that Comes After the First Backstory
I finally got to do that thing I was missing out on.
By the time the second semester of my freshman year rolled around, things had changed.
1) I had become even better friends with the people I had gone to the party with the previous semester.
2) I was more outgoing.
3) I was looking for something new in life and wanted to make the best of my four years and experience things I hadn't experienced before.
4) ...I was no longer in a relationship.
So, yeah. Freedom.
Most college students are probably familiar with the concept of "Syllabus Week", which is when everyone moves back on campus and goes to classes (usually to discuss syllabi), but there's still time to goof around without worrying about assignments or any other academic obligations. Naturally, this is the prime time for people to throw and attend parties.
My friends wanted to take advantage of Syllabus Week, so we went to a party. It was pretty similar to the one I described in Part One. Same free *beverages*, packed stuffy basement, bumping into people, etc...except my curiosity about the strange encounters burned even more brightly. I wanted to enjoy myself and move on from things I had dealt with for too long and do what I had kept myself from doing in the past.
I wanted to meet a stranger.
A few days later, we went out again. My best friend at school had actually gone home that particular weekend, which is something she still regrets to this day because she'd missed quite a spectacle.
The party started off the usual way: Go down to the basement, line up for *beverages*, do some kind of awkward/kind of fake dance until said beverage(s) kick(s) in, wait for people to actually show up, etc. However, later on that night, I noticed that my friends started disappearing one by one. I found out they were pairing off with people and leaving our main group.
My biggest fear in this moment was that I was going to end up dancing alone (something that actually ended up happening a few times at future parties, unfortunately), but, luckily, there were always a couple of people with me.
Later on, a friend (we'll call him "John") returned from the void and decided to dance with me. It was a great time, but, after a while, I start looking around (an act referred to as "scoping" by a good female friend of mine). My eyes fell on a pair of guys who seemed to have just arrived, one with a long ponytail, the other with:
Long.
Curly.
Dark.
Hair.
All my friends knew I found curly dark hair attractive. It was no secret at all.
Once I saw him, I kept looking over. After the first or second glance, we made eye contact. Normally, I'd be afraid to look over again after that, but for some reason, be it the overall atmosphere, the *beverages*, or witnessing my friends partake in interesting activities with strangers, I was feeling a little bold.
I glanced over another five or six times.
I caught his eye...another five or six times.
Oh boy.
"What are you looking at?" John pipes up over the speakers, slightly amused.
I honestly felt giddy.
I leaned in by his ear, grinning. "There's a cute guy over there. With curly hair."
"...Him?"
"Yeah."
He looked just as excited as I was. No one had ever seen me interact with males.
Well, John, it's your lucky day.
"GO GET HIM," he encouraged.
That was all I needed to hear to be tipped over the edge.
I threw all cares out the window.
"...Alright."
So I left John, and not-so-discreetly danced around the basement until I was near the two friends. Once I was there, I just kind of pretended to mind my own business. You know, kind of dancing and just enjoying myself next to the boy with the curly hair. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that he and his friend were talking to each other, glancing over every now and then, until FINALLY.....they started walking away.
what?
no!
guys!
where ya goin'?
I immediately started brainstorming ways to find a way back to my friends in a not awkward fashion as my confidence slowly began to deflate.
But then.
I felt warmth. That kind of warmth you feel when someone invades your personal space. Body heat.
And then there was a voice in my ear...
"...Wanna dance?"
I looked in the direction the words were coming from.
Curly-haired boy was there.
His friend was nowhere in sight.
Yes.
"Yeah sure." I had answered casually, as if I hadn't planned the whole thing all along (not fooling anyone, I know).
And so we danced, while very briefly exchanging small talk (names and whatnot). We'll call this guy "Ken". Lol.
Naturally, my friends went wild because Taylor is actually dancing with someone. What--
I want to say this dancing lasted a good...ten minutes. In that time, we were pretty much testing the waters: dancing, running hands through hair and down abs and along biceps. That sort of thing. And then, before I knew it, our faces started getting close, lips within teasing distance. (Judge me all you want, I'm just trying to entertain you with my life story.)
Couple inches apart.
An inch apart.
Couple inches apart.
An inch apart.
The back and forth went on for a bit and I wasn't sure if he was hesitating or trying to build tension, but, as time went on, the wavering gap gradually shrunk until, eventually, I lifted my hands from his shoulders.
Fastened them behind his neck.
Pulled him in.
Closed the gap.
I immediately felt a form of liberation...satisfaction...relief.
This was exactly what I had wanted.
Now.
I'm not going sit here and describe how making out works. You most likely already know what it's like (and, if not, you've probably seen it at some point).
So that's what happened. I hugged the guy goodbye and left with my friends when they were ready to go. Everyone freaked out because not one member of the group was left alone that night, which was unheard of. It was a great time.
(Except for when said guy also got on the bus and then got off at the same stop and it turned out we lived in the same building. Lol. Life.)
Part Three: What Everyone's Probably Waiting For
I'm never going out again.
Skip to roughly a year later.
A lot had changed once again, but, at the same time, not much had changed. By this, I mean I made a 360 (not a 180, but an unfortunate 360).
I had managed to become involved with the same guy I had been with at the beginning of my freshman year, and then the relationship had ended yet again at around the same time as the year before.
Go figure.
Once again, Syllabus Week rolled around, so my friends and I planned to go out, and I was pretty excited to get back out there and see humans after being cooped up in my room for almost all of winter break. Also, I'd be lying if I were to say my mind wasn't in a similar state as it had been the year prior.
However, a few things went wrong on this night.
The first unfortunate event: my phone was almost dead when we were getting ready to leave.
No big deal. I'll just charge it out in the living room until we start heading out the door.
The battery was nearly full by the time we were leaving. The bus was arriving in roughly three minutes (and there wouldn't be another for the next half hour, and we were late enough to the party as it was), so I quickly grabbed a jacket and my student ID before rushing out with everyone else.
...
:)
I sat down on the bus and it pulled off. After about 45 seconds, I realized something:
I'd forgotten my phone. :))))))
Honestly, right then and there, I should've known the night would go to hell. But, still, I tried to stay positive. I was going out with friends, after all. What would I need a phone for, as long as I stuck by them?
-_-
I'll admit that the party itself was pretty fun. The strobe lights were insane and there were intense flashing lights everywhere that made everyone's dance moves look like freeze frames (the most aesthetically pleasing sights I had ever seen in a dark basement). The playlist was amazing. There was a legitimate DJ booth. Everyone was having fun.
The only problem was: I was not having fun. The *beverage(s)* hadn't done anything and, quite frankly, I was ready to go home after, like, 15 minutes.
But I didn't want to end up walking the streets alone, so I settled for fake dancing and pretending to have fun.
Early on in the party, I ended up dancing with someone while my friends stayed in their group. I thought of how I had been trying to get over someone and how I'd missed physical contact, so after a couple of minutes, when he began leaning in, I didn't resist. I let him kiss me.
Except...
This time it was different.
I felt no pleasure or satisfaction. I realized that casual affection was no longer what I was looking for in life and that partying was no longer something I enjoyed. Despite my anecdote in Part Two (which had been my only casual encounter before this one), my personality is rather tame. I'd rather stay in my room wrapped in a blanket and readfanfiction stuff online or watch That '70s Show or a Korean drama until I fall asleep. Partying was usually more of an occasional social obligation for me.
Because of that...I wanted to go home.
Unfortunately, in the few minutes I had spent dancing with this guy, all of my friends had found people to dance with.
Therefore, I came back to no group.
Yes, awkward solo dancing. I love when this happens.
The night dragged on and there were times when I would contemplate going to the main floor and killing time on Instagram or something of that nature, but then I'd remember I left my stupid phone charging on the TV stand how could I forget my phone in this day and age I'm always on it--
Since everyone was so absorbed in their own dance partners (and were not re-congregating any time soon), I decided I would just dance next to them. Yeah.
About an hour and a half went by, and the guy from earlier came back to dance with me again. However, since I kept avoiding his face (thanks to my recent epiphany) he started to get annoyed, so I eventually walked away. Again.
Unfortunately, the night did not end there.
You know those types of people who are really persistent and can't take hints (and might not even care to take hints)? The types that want to dance with you and can't tell that you kind of just want to be left alone?
Well, one of my friends ran into one of those types. It was this guy who enjoyed dancing all up on people and was probably just out to have a good time.
I had no idea what was happening. I was bored of dancing. I was kicking myself for forgetting my phone. I wanted to sit down, but didn't want to socialize. I was tired. I was irritated. I wanted to go home.
So when she came up to me with him and started dancing with me, I honestly didn't know what I was getting into.
For a while they both danced with me...and then she ran away. Literally.
And that was it.
At first, I was fine with it. After all, I'd spent the majority of the night alone. But after a while, this man was getting a little too close and, soon, I was dodging his face just like I had been with the other guy, except, whenever I did dodge, this man would shrug it off like it was no big deal, and then proceed to dance uncomfortably close until he decided it was safe to sneak and try again.
I remember making eye contact from across the room with my friend (the one who ran away) and not-so-discreetly making these frantic "X"-like gestures with my arms, which was supposed to translate to "get this man away from me".
She looked over, then just kind of un-saw me.
(I AM NOT LOOKING FOR PITY. PLEASE LAUGH AT MY MISERY.)
...until he, like, randomly ditched me.
No "good-bye" or anything. I mean, it's understandable because of how painfully awkward the atmosphere had become, but I ended up feeling like a buzz kill. I'd probably been one, but being ditched (yet again) on top of already being tired and having wanted to leave for over two hours... I really ended up hating that party. To this day, it still goes down as one of the worst nights out I've experienced.
But wait! There's more!
Now that I was done beating people off of me, I went to my friend.
"DID YOU NOT SEE ME?"
"WHAT?"
"OVER THERE." I started making these exaggerated gestures toward the area in which I had been left to die.
"I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN."
"THAT GUY YOU COULDN'T GET AWAY FROM. YOU LEFT ME WITH HIM, AND THEN I COULDN'T GET AWAY."
"OH, I DIDN'T KNOW-"
"WHATDOYOUMEAN? I SAW YOU LOOK AT ME!"
"I THOUGHT YOU WERE HAVING FUN."
"DOES THIS [insert X-like arm gesture] LOOK LIKE IT MEANS 'FUN' TO YOU?"
In all honesty, I don't even remember how she responded to that. I just remember that the reply was unconvincing.and dumb.
So that's how the night went--
HA. JUST KIDDING. IT'S NOT OVER YET.
A boy my friend had been dancing with earlier came up to her in the middle of our shout fest, and they exchanged a few words. She turns to me and says the following:
"Ummm, I'm really sorry, but can you go over there for a second..?" She pointed off in a random direction that was not where they were.
Are you kidding me?
-I didn't have a phone
-I didn't know the girls we came to the party with
-I didn't feel like socializing
-I was annoyed by two guys desperate for dopamine that I was not willing to provide
-I'd had to dance awkwardly by myself
-I wanted to go home
-I didn't want to walk alone
-I was sleepy
-What did I do to deserve this?
You don't need to sit there thinking I shouldn't have gone out. Trust me. I know that now. Lmao
But yeah, so I got sent to a corner for c*ck-blocking, basically.
And THAT is how my night ended.
I didn't go out for a very long time after that.
.
.
.
.
.
Wow. I don't even know how to end this.
It's been fun...?
Okay, it actually has been fun. I enjoyed going back and remembering these failed experiences (which I have since learned to laugh at) and forcing myself to relive them. That is not sarcasm.
The thing about embarrassing moments is that they're interesting. These are the moments everyone wants to hear about. Or, at least I know I'd be more curious about why someone is "SO EMBARRASSED," rather than happy or sad (am I terrible for that?).
But yes! I am hoping that through this journey, you've been inspired to laugh at your own pain because, as I've said in the past, it's not that serious at the end of the day.
Embrace embarrassment, people. It adds color to your lives!
bye
This week (our last week together *cry*) I'm going to write about something I just recently got over that happened less than a year ago. I saved this story for last 1) because I thought of it last, 2) it'll probably be the longest, since I remember it pretty well, and 3) it will most likely (hopefully) be the most interesting of all my posts.
What you are about to witness is an event filled with awkward moments, a backstory being used as a sorry attempt to justify past actions, and multiple points where I decided I was having a bad time.
So yeah, I strongly encourage eating as you read through this because it is going to be a very. Long. Story... And I always eat when I read
[Skip to Part Three to get to the embarrassing stuff.]
Without further ado...
Part One: The Backstory
I didn't know what I was missing.
Okay, I'll start off by saying that I think I'm a pretty loyal person. When I like someone, there's really nothing to worry about. I'm pretty great at just sticking around for a long time and not doing anything that might even slightly bother the person I'm with. This included going to parties. During the first half of my freshman year, I was involved in a somewhat long distance relationship (we were 45 minutes apart, but, for two people who didn't have cars, that was a lot of distance). After about a month of school, I had miraculously made a few friends and one night they invited me to go to a karaoke event. That is all they said. Of course, I reply, "Yeah sure, why not?" because wow people want to hang out with me?
Mind you, I'm someone who dresses for maximum comfort about 98 percent of the time, so I had on giant sweat pants, long fuzzy socks and a hoodie with a random T-shirt underneath.
Karaoke Night was fun, I even went up and sang a song with a friend and sounded terrible like everyone else (I mean, no offense...but we all sucked, so it's fine).
At around 10 p.m. everyone was ready to go. I had heard some talk about a party they were considering going to, but I figured that was something they'd go to after I split from them. But then, at the last minute, one of them asked me if I wanted to join, and, in all honesty, I did want to. I'd had yet to attend a party and, quite frankly, felt like I was missing out on a significant part of the college experience. However, being the freshman I was, I couldn't bring myself to accept the offer right away.
What if I didn't feel like dancing?
What if someone made fun of what I was wearing?
What if I became awkward and anti-social?
What if I never got invited out again?
What would my (then) boyfriend think?
It's cold out.
They told me none of that mattered, though, so I took off my socks, put them in my pocket (not sure why) and somewhat nervously walked with them to a bus stop. On the way there, I had second thoughts again and legitimately decided to go back to my dorm.
"Guys, I think I'm going to head back after all."
"What? Why?"
"I just don't feel like I'm dressed well enough and [insert whatever else I said that ultimately did not work]."
They basically forbade me from leaving. They tore me down. Like, I was partying with them whether I liked it or not. Too late.
Yeah, they're actually pretty great.
Long story short, after an adventure that involved walking blocks upon blocks with only street lights to guide us, getting lost a few times (even with Google Maps), being misled by people on an app called Yik Yak, shivering, and running into other friends (whom I sort of knew), we found a party.
And, once stepping over the threshold that was the doorway of some random house, I was welcomed to a world of free *beverages*, stuffy, dark basements with colorful lights, *beverage* pong, a lack of personal space, people who did not mind that lack of personal space, music that started off too loud (but became bearable as the night went on), and boys who stood by the wall and stalked potential prey from afar.
It was foreign.
It was new.
It was fascinating.
So this is a party.
I remember witnessing two strangers approach each other, introduce themselves, dance together...and then proceed to have an intense make-out session against the wall of stalkers. I had no idea how to feel about it...
I was confused...shocked...excited...
(I literally have no shame. I am writing all of this.)
A part of me wished to know how it felt to meet an attractive stranger and then kiss them that same night.
Of course, I did no such thing. It was too foreign a concept for me to actually consider trying. And I was involved with someone anyway. I settled for going back and forth between dancing with my group of friends and watching *beverage* pong.
It was a great night, and I ended up making a lot of friends that I still talk to now (three of whom I currently live with).
First party: success.
Part Two: The Backstory that Comes After the First Backstory
I finally got to do that thing I was missing out on.
By the time the second semester of my freshman year rolled around, things had changed.
1) I had become even better friends with the people I had gone to the party with the previous semester.
2) I was more outgoing.
3) I was looking for something new in life and wanted to make the best of my four years and experience things I hadn't experienced before.
4) ...I was no longer in a relationship.
So, yeah. Freedom.
Most college students are probably familiar with the concept of "Syllabus Week", which is when everyone moves back on campus and goes to classes (usually to discuss syllabi), but there's still time to goof around without worrying about assignments or any other academic obligations. Naturally, this is the prime time for people to throw and attend parties.
My friends wanted to take advantage of Syllabus Week, so we went to a party. It was pretty similar to the one I described in Part One. Same free *beverages*, packed stuffy basement, bumping into people, etc...except my curiosity about the strange encounters burned even more brightly. I wanted to enjoy myself and move on from things I had dealt with for too long and do what I had kept myself from doing in the past.
I wanted to meet a stranger.
A few days later, we went out again. My best friend at school had actually gone home that particular weekend, which is something she still regrets to this day because she'd missed quite a spectacle.
The party started off the usual way: Go down to the basement, line up for *beverages*, do some kind of awkward/kind of fake dance until said beverage(s) kick(s) in, wait for people to actually show up, etc. However, later on that night, I noticed that my friends started disappearing one by one. I found out they were pairing off with people and leaving our main group.
My biggest fear in this moment was that I was going to end up dancing alone (something that actually ended up happening a few times at future parties, unfortunately), but, luckily, there were always a couple of people with me.
Later on, a friend (we'll call him "John") returned from the void and decided to dance with me. It was a great time, but, after a while, I start looking around (an act referred to as "scoping" by a good female friend of mine). My eyes fell on a pair of guys who seemed to have just arrived, one with a long ponytail, the other with:
Long.
Curly.
Dark.
Hair.
All my friends knew I found curly dark hair attractive. It was no secret at all.
Once I saw him, I kept looking over. After the first or second glance, we made eye contact. Normally, I'd be afraid to look over again after that, but for some reason, be it the overall atmosphere, the *beverages*, or witnessing my friends partake in interesting activities with strangers, I was feeling a little bold.
I glanced over another five or six times.
I caught his eye...another five or six times.
Oh boy.
"What are you looking at?" John pipes up over the speakers, slightly amused.
I honestly felt giddy.
I leaned in by his ear, grinning. "There's a cute guy over there. With curly hair."
"...Him?"
"Yeah."
He looked just as excited as I was. No one had ever seen me interact with males.
Well, John, it's your lucky day.
"GO GET HIM," he encouraged.
That was all I needed to hear to be tipped over the edge.
I threw all cares out the window.
"...Alright."
So I left John, and not-so-discreetly danced around the basement until I was near the two friends. Once I was there, I just kind of pretended to mind my own business. You know, kind of dancing and just enjoying myself next to the boy with the curly hair. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that he and his friend were talking to each other, glancing over every now and then, until FINALLY.....they started walking away.
what?
no!
guys!
where ya goin'?
I immediately started brainstorming ways to find a way back to my friends in a not awkward fashion as my confidence slowly began to deflate.
But then.
I felt warmth. That kind of warmth you feel when someone invades your personal space. Body heat.
And then there was a voice in my ear...
"...Wanna dance?"
I looked in the direction the words were coming from.
Curly-haired boy was there.
His friend was nowhere in sight.
Yes.
"Yeah sure." I had answered casually, as if I hadn't planned the whole thing all along (not fooling anyone, I know).
And so we danced, while very briefly exchanging small talk (names and whatnot). We'll call this guy "Ken". Lol.
Naturally, my friends went wild because Taylor is actually dancing with someone. What--
I want to say this dancing lasted a good...ten minutes. In that time, we were pretty much testing the waters: dancing, running hands through hair and down abs and along biceps. That sort of thing. And then, before I knew it, our faces started getting close, lips within teasing distance. (Judge me all you want, I'm just trying to entertain you with my life story.)
Couple inches apart.
An inch apart.
Couple inches apart.
An inch apart.
The back and forth went on for a bit and I wasn't sure if he was hesitating or trying to build tension, but, as time went on, the wavering gap gradually shrunk until, eventually, I lifted my hands from his shoulders.
Fastened them behind his neck.
Pulled him in.
Closed the gap.
I immediately felt a form of liberation...satisfaction...relief.
This was exactly what I had wanted.
Now.
I'm not going sit here and describe how making out works. You most likely already know what it's like (and, if not, you've probably seen it at some point).
So that's what happened. I hugged the guy goodbye and left with my friends when they were ready to go. Everyone freaked out because not one member of the group was left alone that night, which was unheard of. It was a great time.
(Except for when said guy also got on the bus and then got off at the same stop and it turned out we lived in the same building. Lol. Life.)
Part Three: What Everyone's Probably Waiting For
I'm never going out again.
Skip to roughly a year later.
A lot had changed once again, but, at the same time, not much had changed. By this, I mean I made a 360 (not a 180, but an unfortunate 360).
I had managed to become involved with the same guy I had been with at the beginning of my freshman year, and then the relationship had ended yet again at around the same time as the year before.
Go figure.
Once again, Syllabus Week rolled around, so my friends and I planned to go out, and I was pretty excited to get back out there and see humans after being cooped up in my room for almost all of winter break. Also, I'd be lying if I were to say my mind wasn't in a similar state as it had been the year prior.
However, a few things went wrong on this night.
The first unfortunate event: my phone was almost dead when we were getting ready to leave.
No big deal. I'll just charge it out in the living room until we start heading out the door.
The battery was nearly full by the time we were leaving. The bus was arriving in roughly three minutes (and there wouldn't be another for the next half hour, and we were late enough to the party as it was), so I quickly grabbed a jacket and my student ID before rushing out with everyone else.
...
:)
I sat down on the bus and it pulled off. After about 45 seconds, I realized something:
I'd forgotten my phone. :))))))
Honestly, right then and there, I should've known the night would go to hell. But, still, I tried to stay positive. I was going out with friends, after all. What would I need a phone for, as long as I stuck by them?
-_-
I'll admit that the party itself was pretty fun. The strobe lights were insane and there were intense flashing lights everywhere that made everyone's dance moves look like freeze frames (the most aesthetically pleasing sights I had ever seen in a dark basement). The playlist was amazing. There was a legitimate DJ booth. Everyone was having fun.
The only problem was: I was not having fun. The *beverage(s)* hadn't done anything and, quite frankly, I was ready to go home after, like, 15 minutes.
But I didn't want to end up walking the streets alone, so I settled for fake dancing and pretending to have fun.
Early on in the party, I ended up dancing with someone while my friends stayed in their group. I thought of how I had been trying to get over someone and how I'd missed physical contact, so after a couple of minutes, when he began leaning in, I didn't resist. I let him kiss me.
Except...
This time it was different.
I felt no pleasure or satisfaction. I realized that casual affection was no longer what I was looking for in life and that partying was no longer something I enjoyed. Despite my anecdote in Part Two (which had been my only casual encounter before this one), my personality is rather tame. I'd rather stay in my room wrapped in a blanket and read
Because of that...I wanted to go home.
Unfortunately, in the few minutes I had spent dancing with this guy, all of my friends had found people to dance with.
Therefore, I came back to no group.
Yes, awkward solo dancing. I love when this happens.
The night dragged on and there were times when I would contemplate going to the main floor and killing time on Instagram or something of that nature, but then I'd remember I left my stupid phone charging on the TV stand how could I forget my phone in this day and age I'm always on it--
Since everyone was so absorbed in their own dance partners (and were not re-congregating any time soon), I decided I would just dance next to them. Yeah.
About an hour and a half went by, and the guy from earlier came back to dance with me again. However, since I kept avoiding his face (thanks to my recent epiphany) he started to get annoyed, so I eventually walked away. Again.
Unfortunately, the night did not end there.
You know those types of people who are really persistent and can't take hints (and might not even care to take hints)? The types that want to dance with you and can't tell that you kind of just want to be left alone?
Well, one of my friends ran into one of those types. It was this guy who enjoyed dancing all up on people and was probably just out to have a good time.
I had no idea what was happening. I was bored of dancing. I was kicking myself for forgetting my phone. I wanted to sit down, but didn't want to socialize. I was tired. I was irritated. I wanted to go home.
So when she came up to me with him and started dancing with me, I honestly didn't know what I was getting into.
For a while they both danced with me...and then she ran away. Literally.
And that was it.
At first, I was fine with it. After all, I'd spent the majority of the night alone. But after a while, this man was getting a little too close and, soon, I was dodging his face just like I had been with the other guy, except, whenever I did dodge, this man would shrug it off like it was no big deal, and then proceed to dance uncomfortably close until he decided it was safe to sneak and try again.
I remember making eye contact from across the room with my friend (the one who ran away) and not-so-discreetly making these frantic "X"-like gestures with my arms, which was supposed to translate to "get this man away from me".
She looked over, then just kind of un-saw me.
...until he, like, randomly ditched me.
No "good-bye" or anything. I mean, it's understandable because of how painfully awkward the atmosphere had become, but I ended up feeling like a buzz kill. I'd probably been one, but being ditched (yet again) on top of already being tired and having wanted to leave for over two hours... I really ended up hating that party. To this day, it still goes down as one of the worst nights out I've experienced.
But wait! There's more!
Now that I was done beating people off of me, I went to my friend.
"DID YOU NOT SEE ME?"
"WHAT?"
"OVER THERE." I started making these exaggerated gestures toward the area in which I had been left to die.
"I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN."
"THAT GUY YOU COULDN'T GET AWAY FROM. YOU LEFT ME WITH HIM, AND THEN I COULDN'T GET AWAY."
"OH, I DIDN'T KNOW-"
"WHATDOYOUMEAN? I SAW YOU LOOK AT ME!"
"I THOUGHT YOU WERE HAVING FUN."
"DOES THIS [insert X-like arm gesture] LOOK LIKE IT MEANS 'FUN' TO YOU?"
In all honesty, I don't even remember how she responded to that. I just remember that the reply was unconvincing.
So that's how the night went--
HA. JUST KIDDING. IT'S NOT OVER YET.
A boy my friend had been dancing with earlier came up to her in the middle of our shout fest, and they exchanged a few words. She turns to me and says the following:
"Ummm, I'm really sorry, but can you go over there for a second..?" She pointed off in a random direction that was not where they were.
Are you kidding me?
-I didn't have a phone
-I didn't know the girls we came to the party with
-I didn't feel like socializing
-I was annoyed by two guys desperate for dopamine that I was not willing to provide
-I'd had to dance awkwardly by myself
-I wanted to go home
-I didn't want to walk alone
-I was sleepy
-What did I do to deserve this?
You don't need to sit there thinking I shouldn't have gone out. Trust me. I know that now. Lmao
But yeah, so I got sent to a corner for c*ck-blocking, basically.
And THAT is how my night ended.
I didn't go out for a very long time after that.
.
.
.
.
.
Wow. I don't even know how to end this.
It's been fun...?
Okay, it actually has been fun. I enjoyed going back and remembering these failed experiences (which I have since learned to laugh at) and forcing myself to relive them. That is not sarcasm.
The thing about embarrassing moments is that they're interesting. These are the moments everyone wants to hear about. Or, at least I know I'd be more curious about why someone is "SO EMBARRASSED," rather than happy or sad (am I terrible for that?).
But yes! I am hoping that through this journey, you've been inspired to laugh at your own pain because, as I've said in the past, it's not that serious at the end of the day.
Embrace embarrassment, people. It adds color to your lives!
bye
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