Wow. You did that? You had no idea you could be such a bitch.
“I’m really sorry, James.… I must have been completely wasted. I don’t even remember. I mean, I remember the party, sort of, but most of the night is a blur. It was Carina’s birthday and we’d had way too much to drink and…”
“Save it; I don’t care. Nick mentioned that a friend of Suzy’s wanted to go to Lindy’s party tonight to meet some guy. If you think I’m going to watch you walk all over some other poor schmuck, you’re sadly mistaken. Sorry, Nick, but I’m not going anywhere with her.”
And with that he storms out of the restaurant. After a brief apology and the explanation that James really needs to get out more often, Nick runs after him, taking all your hopes for the evening with him. Suzy is glaring at you. “I can’t believe you treated him like that. That poor guy.”
“But I don’t even remember what happened! Come on, Suzy, you know I wouldn’t do something like that unless I was bombed.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she fumes, running out to catch up with Nick and James. Dejected, you sit down and order a glass of ouzo.
The End
You’re barely in the door of Lisa’s apartment before she pins you up against the wall and starts kissing you and undoing your belt buckle. You’re too drunk and horny to be thinking straight; otherwise you might actually resist her advances. Men have been known to do that, you know. In fact, at another time you might actually be slightly annoyed by how easily manipulated you are. She’s been brushing up against you all night; standing too close. So close you can smell her. So you’ve been slightly aroused all evening. This was on the cards whether you wanted it to be or not. Because what it really comes down to is the fact that she wants you and she’s done her prep work. You’re powerless to refuse.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she says, right as you’ve managed to strip her clothes from the waist up and grab her ample breasts. When you see that her left nipple is pierced, a silver ring jutting out with her hardened nipple, you lower your mouth to flick it with your tongue. You’re more aroused than ever, straining against your jeans.
If you say, “The only thing I need to know is where the bedroom is…” read on here.
If you say, “What?” but continue flicking, read on here.
A health food restaurant serving only organic food, Polly’s’ general policy could be summed up with the phrase “We take the fun out of dining out.” The hard wooden benches are set too close together. The tables are uncomfortably small. The staff are at best apathetic and at worst downright hostile. The long and complicated menu—most of which seems to consist of seaweed and various types of bean—is written in lilliputian print on a chalkboard out front. The prices are ludicrously high. And yet it’s always crowded.
You steer Suzy, who’s still clutching her bottle of Stoli like it’s made of gold, through the door, and both of you peer around while the guy in charge of reservations gives you a forced semi-smile. “There’s a thirty-minute wait, ladies.”
“We’re looking for someone,” you explain. “Suzy, do you see Nick anywhere?”
“Nah … Is there a smoking section out back?” she asks.
Your charming host shakes his head disdainfully, as if Suzy is a dim-witted child.
“Can we have a quick look around?” she continues.
“If you leave the bottle here.”
“Why can’t I take it inside?” Suzy’s getting petulant now.
He says nothing, just gives Suzy that look again. What a jerk.
“Well? Why can’t I? Hey”—she nudges you—“the host is not responding! Hahahaha!”
“Ladies, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“But we haven’t done anything!” whines Suzy. “Just give me a second.” She barges past him and parades through the restaurant, checking all the diners. “He’s not here!” she calls to you. A waiter approaches and takes her firmly by the arm. She tries to shake him off and in doing so, drops the bottle. It shatters instantly, and the look on Suzy’s face is almost tragic.
“My Stoli! You bastard!”
“You’re leaving now,” insists the waiter, escorting her to the door. “Management reserves the right to refuse admission.”
“Yeah? Well, customers reserve the right to tell you to go fuck yourself!”
“Come on, Suze, let’s try the Apollo.”
“My Stoli,” she repeats, looking heartbroken.
“I’ll buy you one for Christmas. Let’s go.”
Read on here.
“I think I’m going to do it,” you say to Lisa.
“Okay, have fun. See you.” She takes off down the street.
“Okay, boys, let’s get you two prepped.”
“How cool is this.” Dave elbows you as you follow this Liam person to a trailer where your nose is powdered.
You spend the next hour walking in front of this apartment building as they film a scene with this gorgeous girl, who looks kind of familiar, and three very average-looking guys. Your kind of movie!
When they call a “wrap” Liam approaches with a few papers. “I forgot to get you two to sign these releases. Just sign on the dotted line and we’ll set you up with fifty bucks and you can be on your way. We appreciate your help, lads.”
“Is this some kind of joke?” Dave has started reading the paper and doesn’t look pleased.
“How do you mean?” Liam goes to his side.
“The bit here, about it being an Ed Burns movie.”
“Ed Burns.” Liam nods his head. “That’s the director.”
“I thought it was Kevin Smith. I saw Kevin Smith before.”
“Oh, you must be thinking of the gaffer John. He gets that all the time.”
“No way in hell you’re putting me in an Ed Burns movie. I thought you had to date the guy to get a part anyway.” Dave rips up his release form.
You go to sign yours, hoping to get your fifty dollars before this gets out of hand.
“What are you doing?” Dave rips the form out of your hand and tears it up into tiny pieces, throwing it at Liam like confetti.
“You can’t do this.” Liam swats at some of the lingering bits of paper.
“Watch me.” Dave starts to walk away.
“Do you realize your friend just set us back a whole day’s worth of filming?”
“Sorry.” You shrug and start to back away in the direction Dave went. “He’s a very emotional film buff. Might want to screen your extras a little better next time.”
A few minutes later you catch up with Dave.
If you say, “Why do you always have to be such an asshole?” read on here.
If you say, “That was by far the coolest. I’m going to go buy Variety for, like, a month to see if we get in there somehow,” read on here.
Mustering your courage, you saunter, as nonchalantly as possible given the combination of embarrassment and annoyance you’re feeling, over to Suzy and Mark.
“Hey.” Good opener.
“Hey!” Suzy seems visibly shocked to see you. “Didn’t think you’d make it.”
I bet you didn’t. “Well, here I am.” God, this is scintillating. Not a single bright remark is coming to mind. Fire the scriptwriter! “Hey, Mark.” Again, sheer poetry.
“Hi, nice to see you.” Well, that’s something. “Suzy was just telling me she thought you’d got lucky tonight.”
Suzy winces, and the desire to strangle her with her own stockings is almost overpowering.
“How sweet of her. Well no, I was just catching up with an old friend. And what happened to that guy you were with?”
“The English guy? We were just talking,” replies Suzy, shooting daggers at you.
“Clearly he has a problem with American accents—it looked like he couldn’t understand what you were saying unless you stuck your tongue in his ear.” Miaow! Perhaps you’ve both gone a little far, but right now you’re pissed and you don’t care who bears the brunt of it.<
br />
“I thought you two were friends,” says Mark, backing away from Suzy and heading for the kitchen. “Maybe I should just leave you to figure out whatever’s going on here.”
As soon as he’s out of earshot Suzy covers her face with her hands and moans. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I completely fucked it up.”
“Jesus, Suzy, what the fuck is going on? You knew I liked him,” you blurt.
“I know. But he came over to me and we started talking and I realized … fuck, I’ve really blown it.”
“You realized you liked him?”
“Not exactly.” She’s blushing furiously.
This isn’t making sense. “Then what?”
There’s a long and painful pause before she speaks. She’s staring at you now, and for some reason you’re completely immobile. “I realized … that I’ve been jealous for a while, and thought it was because he liked you rather than me.”
She looks so miserable and flustered that any anger you were feeling has drained away. “But…” you encourage her.
“But … really it was because you liked him.”
Oh my god. “I see.” Except you’re not exactly sure that you do, until Suzy brushes your cheek gently and an electric shock races right through you.
Instinctively you glance toward Mark. He’s looking over, intensely curious.
If you decide to leave Suzy and go over to Mark, read on here.
If you stay with Suzy, read on here.
“What are you doing?”
“Get out,” you say.
“What?”
“What’s a matter? You don’t understand English. He said, ‘Get out.’” Mike answers.
“You must be joking.”
“I’m afraid not,” you say.
“You won’t get away with this.” Elizabeth gets out of the car and you close the door, but the window remains open. “I know people.”
“Ooooh, I’m shaking.” Mike clutches your arm. “Big bad Elizabeth is going to rally her obscure indie band and call up somebody who works at the NME. Then what’ll we do?”
“Fuck you,” she says.
“In your dreams, baby,” Mike says, then tells the driver to go.
At the corner, the taxi gets into an accident. As you get out of the car to assess the physical damage—thankfully no one’s hurt—Elizabeth cruises past in another taxi.
“Suckers!” she shouts out the window, giving you the finger.
You and Mike spend the next hour telling cops what you saw, therefore missing the gang at Spinners. Turns out Mike doesn’t know where the party is, and you both check your answering machines. No joy. You find another bar to drink in and end up talking to two girls, one of whom is really cute. Unfortunately, you get stuck with the ugly one. She gets mad when you don’t want to take her home.
The End
“Hey!” Nick’s hug of greeting is almost warm enough to make up for what you’ve just seen. “Any songs you’d like to hear? Special requests?”
“That depends. Do you have ‘My best friend is a scheming skanky bitch and she’s coming on to the guy I wanted to get lucky with tonight’?”
“Already played it, sorry. Seriously, don’t worry about Suzy … she’s just drunk. There’s nothing going on. Go over to them, stick your chest in his face or toss your hair or whatever it is you women do to attract attention. Or”—he pauses—“you could forget about that guy and try the one who’s been eyeing you ever since you came over here.”
You take a surreptitious glance around. The guy Nick’s referring to is smiling at you—he’s extremely cute, long-haired, and baby-faced. And he’s coming over.
“Hi, I’m Alex.” You shake hands, and he holds yours considerably longer than necessary. Alex offers to get you a drink and returns with a nameless concoction that contains a great deal of vodka. Both of you stand around awkwardly for a couple of minutes, while Nick continues battering guests’ senses with his choice of party music. Finally some space opens up on a couch and you get comfortable.
Alex is funny, charming, and very easy to talk to. In fact, there’s something strangely familiar about him, though you’re sure you’d remember having met someone as attractive as this before. There’s a lot of common ground between you—you grew up in the same town and know a lot of the same people, though whenever the conversation is about to get around to exact details of where he lived or went to school, Alex changes the subject. Maybe he’s just shy. He seems very sweet … perhaps not sweet enough to make up for the loss of Mark, but at least you don’t feel like such a loser now that you’re talking to someone else instead of glaring bitterly over at Suzy and him.
Speaking of which, they’re now dancing to “Crazy for You” by Madonna. You could kill Nick for putting this on—not that there’s any fooling around going on, but how long will it be before Suzy tries her patented “Sorry, was that your groin that I brushed against?” move.
You can’t watch. You need something to hide your eyes with, and what better than Alex’s face and hair. He’s leaning in close—any second now he’s going to try to kiss you. Will you go for it?
If yes, read on here.
If no, read on here.
As the cab pulls away, Elizabeth talks through the open window. “Even when we were twelve I could tell you wouldn’t ever be man enough for me.”
You’re too awestruck to think of a comeback.
“God, what a bitch.” Mike is surveying the block you’ve stranded yourselves on. “Don’t let her get to you.”
“Ah, don’t worry about it.” You spy a bar down at the end of the street. “But let’s have another before we catch up with the rest of the gang. I need a minute to recover.”
“Okay…” Mike follows your line of vision to the bar on the corner. “You sure you want to go there?”
“Yeah,” you say. “Why not?”
“Well, in that case”—Mike starts walking alongside you—“there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”
Inside, you find two stools by the bar right near the door and settle into them swiftly. You order a beer, and Mike follows suit.
“So, what’s this you want to talk to me about?”
Mike takes a long gulp of his drink. “I’m gay.”
You’ve also taken a fair amount of liquid into your mouth, and you almost spit it out. “What?”
“I’m gay.” Mike nods and looks you straight in the eye, waiting for your response.
You examine the crowd and realize that there are absolutely no women in the place.
“This is a gay bar, isn’t it?”
“Yup.”
“You ever been here before?”
“No.” Mike plays with the cocktail straw in his glass. “That’s the problem. It’s like I know this about myself but I don’t really know any other gay people for some reason and I’m really not into going out by myself and checking these kinds of places out. It’s kind of exciting just to be here now. I feel like it was a big step, even if it was completely by accident.”
You sit in silence for a few minutes, then Mike speaks again.
“I was so scared to tell you. I thought you’d freak out and think I was interested in you or something. It’s such a huge relief to have finally told you. God, you wouldn’t believe.”
You’re touched that Mike was so worried about you, but also feel bad that he’s been keeping this to himself, and that he’s struggling to find his way. “What do you say we stay here and check out the scene here tonight?”
Mike’s eyes light up. “You serious?”
You nod.
“I thought you were hoping to get laid tonight.”
“You want to stay or not?”
“Of course I do. I’d love to. Maybe I’ll get laid tonight.”
“If I’m giving up a chance with Sadie you’d better. So let’s get working. Bartender? Another round.”
You’re such a good friend.
The End
You’ve been back to
Peter’s place after many other nights out, and, as usual, it looks like the bomb squad got there seconds too late.
“Messy, yes, but stylishly so,” he insists, striding into the kitchen to make coffee. You slump in a chair underneath his huge framed Ramones poster, close your eyes, and when you wake up, the room is in semidarkness. There’s a blanket tucked in around you and a cup of cold coffee by your feet. A note on the arm of the chair that you can just make out in the murky light reads, “Didn’t want to wake you. Don’t leave without saying good-bye.”
You stand up and make your way groggily to the door of Peter’s room. He’s sound asleep. Maybe you should just go back and crash on the chair for the rest of the night. He looks kind of cute though, all huddled up under the comforter.
Peter mumbles something in his sleep and kicks the covers off. Ah, how sweet. Like a little kid.
Like a little naked kid with a raging hard-on. And it may not be that bright in here, but you have to admit that is a damn impressive display. Who’d have figured?
You’re leaning in the doorway staring, unwillingly mesmerized, when you become aware that Peter has woken up and is looking at you.
“I know I should reach for the covers except I’m frozen with embarrassment.”
“God, sorry,” you start. “Let me.” And before you know what you’re doing, you’re pulling the comforter up over him and giving him an unthinking pat. “Oh fuck … sorry, again.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it. I generally like to at least kiss first, though.” He laughs.
If you make a move, read on here.
If you leave, read on here.
Big Night Out Page 18