Dear [Girls Name],

I’m sorry. If you are reading this, which I doubt because I don’t think we exchanged last names, I’m sorry. Now that is only really half true. I’m sure you didn’t want me spending the night just as much as I didn’t want to spend the night. But I recently told the tale of what happened that night and someone told me that it was a dick move- but it would probably make her feel better if she knew how shitty the rest of my night went. So here you go. Obviously I’m not going to use your name, mostly because all I got was a first name.

Let’s back up to how we met and how the night unfolded.

I was there for a friend’s birthday party. I had quite a bit of Jägermeister before we even left for the bar. Some call it pre-gaming; I call it being fiscally responsible. Either way, I arrived at the bar- nothing out of the ordinary. Well that’s not entire true; I had a bit of a stomach ache. At the time I just attributed this to drinking all of that Jägermeister on an empty stomach.  I kept drinking.

My stomach pains kept getting worse; this however did not slow down my drinking. I kept up a much higher than average pace. The bar was packed- so I ordered my drinks in doubles, and once even three at a time. Whatever, still, pretty normal night.

That was until I let out a quick test fart. Everyone knows what a test fart is- a miniature fart used to test whether or not the upcoming farts are safe. And by safe I mean not shit. I really didn’t want to shit my pants. I still don’t.

The test fart did not go very well. In fact, it went almost as bad as it could. Almost. I made a B-line for the bathroom. I absolutely hate shitting in public, especially at bars, but I had no choice. It was either shit there or shit in the ocean. After weighing my options during my walk, I decided on the bathroom.

I made it. From there I shit hard, loud, and fast. I didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me. Usually a shit of that nature is caused by something: fast foot, food poisoning, or maybe just karma? I didn’t know and I still don’t know what caused such an explosive bowel movement. I tried my best to ignore the laughs coming from outside the stall; mercy flushing for myself every few seconds so that the smell never made it to my nostrils.

Much like all bad things in life, this shit came to an end. I washed my hands thoroughly and went to the outdoor bar to cool off for a bit.

I grabbed a table and sat down. This is where our paths crossed. You and your extremely loud friend started yelling at each other. I watched as an innocent bystander for the first few minutes and it seemed like she was really letting you have it. You weren’t very good at arguing. After watching her berate you for what I deemed as far too long, I intervened.

“Hey, don’t take that shit form this cunt.”

It was a pretty aggressive move, but she was saying some seriously hurtful shit to you and in my drunken state, this was the only way I knew how to intervene.

She was dumbfounded. She stood there for a few seconds just staring at me before she walked away, never to be seen from again.

You immediately started laughing, as did I. You introduced yourself and I followed suit. You told me that your friend wasn’t normally such a cunt, but that she was having a bad night and just started taking it out on you. I apologized for intervening, but you said that you were thankful, so much so that you bought us two rounds of tequila shots. I bought the next two rounds because I’m a gentleman.

Before we took that last shot you asked me if I wanted to split an Uber with you. I agreed and you set it up on your phone. This is when we split up for a little bit. You told me that you needed to tell your other friends you were leaving. We agreed to meet in front of the bar. We did just that as I sent my roommate a quick text letting him know what was up and that my phone was on the verge of dying.

On the ride home you made reference to me giving you money to split the cab. I said yea of course, when we get back to the house I’ll give it to you. You got a little handsy in the cab, for which I was very appreciative. As I’m sure the driver was as he watched through the rear view mirror.

We got to the house you were staying at, which was relatively close to a friend’s house. You said it was your friends Aunt’s house, or something along those lines. But that no one was home, so it was fine.

You opened the door and the smell hit me immediately. Cats. Lots of cats. It smelled like there was a mountain made of dead cats in there. I’m not a huge cat person, and times like this are why. I immediately made reference to the smell and asked if there was something dead inside the house. You didn’t find this funny. You grabbed a bottle of terrible tequila and two glasses. I filled mine up pretty high, yours a little less than a shot because you asked for a small one- you said you didn’t want to get drunk because you had beach plans really early.

We finished our drinks and made our way to the room you were staying in. This room smelled like it was the dead cat’s headquarters. I persevered though, because sex was on the line. We got into the tiny twin bed and made sweet, sweet love.

I’ll be honest; this was not by best performance. It was 90 degrees, humid, and smelled like if a cat and an onion had a love child. I didn’t try my best to hold out. When we were done you said you wanted to take a quick shower and that I could take one after you were done. I agreed and you were off to the shower.

This was the last time I saw you.

As soon as that door closed I weighed my options. I could stay and get zero sleep as Cat Mountain made an all-out assault on my nose or, I could take the cowards way out and bail while you were in the shower.

This wouldn’t be much of a story if I had stayed. I thought to myself I can definitely get to my friend’s house from here. I just needed to walk out of the house, make a left and follow the road to the main boulevard- and from there I just needed to hit a few cross streets and I’d be fine.

I quickly threw my clothes on and started making my way out of the house. Not before stopping by the tequila and dumping some down my throat. I’m not proud of doing this, but whatever, shit happens. I’m sure I would have had this happen to me many times if I cared enough to shower after sex.

I struggled for a second to get all the garbage tequila down without throwing up. I walked out of the house and made a quick right down a side street. For those of you who pay attention when you read, you already know of my fuck up. However, I had no such luck.

I walked. And walked. And walked. I had gone about ten or so blocks before I realized I had gone the wrong way. Immediately I had begun cursing. It was hot, humid and I was sweating quite a bit. I sat down on a curb in front of someone’s house. And started doing the math.

It was a ten block walk from where I originally was to where I had to go. I had now walked roughly ten blocks in the wrong direction. This made my easy ten block walk a now daunting thirty block walk- having completed the original ten already. I stretched back onto the curb I was sitting on, to try and lie down for a little bit. Immediately the lights in the house turned on. All of the lights. I stood up and turned around, giving an ‘I’m not a murderer wave’ to whoever was in the window watching me. I began walking back in the direction I needed to go.

Like I said before, it was hot, very hot- 90 degrees or so. We had a few weeks like that this summer. They can all fuck off. So I did what any guy in my position could do, I popped my shirt off. Normally I’m not really a shirt off in public kind of guy- I’m not an asshole. But I did, and I threw the shirt on my shoulder and kept walking. Stopping only a few times to throw up tequila.

I saw some headlights coming up behind me and I moved a little further over in the shoulder as I didn’t want my night to end with me getting starched by an oncoming car. I heard the car slowing down so I turned around. It was a small white car, maybe a Honda Civic and it was coming to a complete stop. So, assuming this was a friend who was also at the bar that had spotted me, I started walking towards the vehicle.

I stuck my head right in the window to see who it was and that’s when the yelling started.

“Fuck you- you fat piece of shit!”

And just like that, they sped off into the night, leaving me slightly confused as I stood on the side of the road around three in the morning.

This was my night. I hope you weren’t all that offended by me leaving while you were in the shower. I can’t imagine you really wanted me to squeeze in there with you. Also, to the other few girls I have done this too, I’m sorry as well. It wasn’t you in particular; I just really wanted to not be there anymore.

Love always,

Stephen