It is a fact that most guys get more interesting after you've had a handful of drinks and become 10x cuter at bar close.
Now just imagine a group of guys with British accents and an offer to drive you home after you realize that the last bus has come and gone.
Then clearly the guy in question suddenly becomes the most attractive person in the bar and at the moment in the world.
Luckily for me the guy I'm talking about was not the married gentlemen celebrating his 40th birthday who originally hit on me and bought me a Miller Lite (cheap ass).
It was obviously the youngest person in the group at the age of 31.
I originally headed to this random Chinatown bar after I found out the next X2 bus home wouldn't come for 50 mins and who has time to wait for the bus when you can drink at a bar for 40 mins?
I thought this plan was genius!
Until I got caught up talking to this group of men and missed the bus.
What was a girl to do?
Clearly take a taxi... Expect that when I'm drunk I have irrational fear of taxis.
Of course I don’t have an irrational fear of talking to strangers with accents.
I have my priorities straight!
Just at the moment when I thought, “crap, I have to get cash and take one of those scary yellow things home” they offered me a ride.
And in typical drunk girl fashion I thought, “going to their hotel room would just be easier”
But before agreeing to go home with the group of guys I sent my sister a text filled with their four photos.
With a tag line "if I die. They did it."
I've seen Criminal Minds and I was just covering up my tracks.
notice 2:45... what was I thinking
And now begins the story of how I made out with a British guy in a hotel room with his newly 40 year old friend sleeping in the bed next to us.
And as a shocker to myself (and to my sister) I was still alive the next morning and still wearing clothes!
And as much as I wanted to check off "have sex in a hotel room" off my list of things I need to do in my life. I just couldn't get myself to do it. His friend was in the next bed and plus he was a bad kisser… in my experience bad kissers are generally bad at everything.
And more importantly I was tired, it was late, and I had a full day of drinking in me. And I couldn’t justify in my head –even my drunk head- that doing this would be a good idea. (Does that make me an adult? I'm pretty sure it does.)
The morning after his friend bought me a Gatorade and offered to give me cab money to get home. I took the Gatorade, but let him keep his $20.00…. I really didn’t need to leave a hotel room with cash.
I like to keep it classy!
also: the next morning he definitely was not as good looking as he was the night before.