Sometime, Losing is the Right Thing

Flush from my success Friday, and still creeped out by drunken female 40+ advisor grinding up to all us college boys Saturday, I was looking forward to this birthday party tonight. This was a return to The Family, and was going to include the regular cast of characters, including One, Two, Three, and Four.

Now, throw in 2 more. Five is a freshman engineering student. Kinda cute. I should’ve learned my lesson already about freshers, but plainly the forbidden fruit is too tempting. Finally, a lesbian friend of ours came with. She came with the intent of congratulating the birthday boy, then getting wasted on pills. She also thought her contact could get me some too.

Immediately upon arrival, I’m faced with a choice. Is Two being flirty again? Should I try one more time? Or ignore him and go for Five? Its one of those situations where you might as well flip a coin. The mental dice roll, and I go off to dance with Two.

About 20 minutes later, I realize I made the wrong choice. The boy just has a flirty demeanor; he has no intention of hooking up with me again. Well, scratch that. Where’s Five?

Grinding up with One, of course. I was rather stunned. Now, perhaps I forget to mention, One is one in the same as the French Kid. You know, that one I kinda manipulated before guilting myself out and pushing him away. Since then, I’d encouraged him to go out and meet someone new. Mission accomplished?

I surprised myself by being angry. Here, that pitiable French kid is trying to steal my prey! The amateur, I should go over right now and have a little fun. I can have either of them if I want. Fucking cumdumsters.

I storm off, only to pass Three with a new beau of his own. This leaves only me. Tempted to call up the boy from Friday, but best not jump the gun, ya know? Instead, I’ll find my lesbian and her pills.

She’s already slipping into an altered state, and is nuzzled into some floozy’s arms. I ask her if she has extra, but no, her source only had enough for her tonight. Goddammit, The Family is supposed to be easy! This just isn’t my night.

Nothing better to do, I return to Two, still dancing into oblivion. We’re friends, and I can dance platonically. However, I still have my eyes on the two lovebirds. Anger yields to temptation; the desire to interfere is powerful.

But, here’s the funny thing. There’s a reason I didn’t go far with One. And frankly, Five is just like him. Neither would be a good pick, hookup or otherwise. Why am I so tempted to jump in then?

The answer comes easily: My ego. This ugly beast has grown too much too fast, and now its taking over. Because they’re not sitting on my shoulders anymore, my conscience is getting suppressed. But should I do the selfish thing or the right thing?

That answer is obvious. Resentful and alone, I let them do their thing. I owe it to the French boy. First I used him, then I coached him. How dare I step in now. Besides, they’re a cute couple.

Earlier than I expected, people start to leave. Three and his new friend vanish. One and Five, gone. Out of curiosity, I check the bathroom, seeing if I recognize two pairs of familiar shoes in any of the stalls.

My lesbian friend is sitting outside of the bathrooms on a bench, looking queasy. I ask her what’s wrong. Apparently, her pills were bad pills. The fun was short lived, and now she feels like shit and is about to crap out home. Her tonight and tomorrow are basically scuttled.

At the bar, Two is enjoying his last drink of the night. It’s his bedtime too. An odd curiosity washing over me, I ask him a question at the back of my head since we got here: That text message, right before you kissed me. What did it say?

It was never a text message. I realized what it earlier on the dance floor. I found out his disinterest in hooking up again by chatting, but it was hard as hell to hear. So we used our phones, typing text messages and showing them to each other as a form of conversation. This time I was only tipsy, so I realized what was going on. Last time I was completely shitfaced, so I had no fucking clue.

It said “I’ll make out with you, but we’re not having sex.”

We parted on very amicable terms. Now it was just me and Four, and I returned to dancing with total strangers. However, I had trouble even faking a smile. My ego was bruised, and more fragile than I gave it credit. And on top of it all, kids from my res-college show up.

I was already outed to all of them, so my presence here is no shocker. In fact, was quite the pleasant exchange. I hang out with them for half-hour or so until hunger drives me to leave the club and go to McDonalds.

For the record, nothing is better than McDonalds when you’re drunk and starving.

Sobered up and sitting alone in Brunswick Street Mall digesting oily food in an upset stomach, it was easy to feel like crap. Until I got a text from Two. “Thanks for tonight, lets do it again some other time.”

So maybe I’m not having sex, I’ve made a friend and drinking buddy. That’s enough for one night. Instead of going to the bar, I go crash at Three’s place instead.
Five is there, half asleep, but One is nowhere to be found. Taxi home, apparently. I ask somewhat sardonically if their evening ended well.

“We decided to stop before things went too far. Maybe we’ll go out again some time.”

Invasive as ever, I ask what “too far” was, and nearly broke out laughing when I heard. Kissing. Kissing was too far. They never even made out. Hell, even I made out with the French kid the night we went dancing.

It was all abundantly clear to me then. We’re all basically the same age. Two of us are exchange students. But we’re all in very different places. Five is exactly what the French boy needs. They’re both naïve and sweet, and they can take their time exploring themselves and each other.

The next morning (after 3 hours of uncomfortable sleep) I fulfilled my wish for pancakes, and crawled back to my dorm at 9am. Things are as they should be…

Except, Five and One make out two days later and are now dating. And when I call my Friday make-out on Monday, he tells me that he enjoyed my company, but cannot see me in “that way”. Turns out in the 48 hours since I talked to him last, he found the boy of his dreams and is now in a monogamous relationship. Though, I guess he must be a real clingy motherfucker. I’m better off not tied to him.

So maybe I’m alone, and missed out on multiple chances, but right now, things really are as they should be.