Wedding Warriors

            This weekend was Cheese and Thad’s wedding.  It was a lovely event!  (Thanks for having me in your bridal party BFFS!!  286!)  So, you know, I have a date, not sexually interested in him, so I am clearly on the prowl.  I mean, lets be honest here, wedding sex is probably some of the best sex due to emotions running high and not giving a fuck about it at the end of the night.  (Or the next morning, whatever).

            So you know, were dancing and drinking… a lot.  And everyone is having an excellent time.  I notice this guy sitting at one of the tables, and I recognize him as the hot guy that Cheese wanted to introduce me to months back.  Remember from one of the earlier blogs when I was discussing the Top Ten List?  He was one of the guys on said list, you know, the one I don’t know from a hole in the wall.  Whatever, anyways…

            The night goes on, I kinda do the weird stare thing that creepers do.  I think, through my Cosmo drunken haze, that he is looking back but I am not too sure.  Let me just sidetrack for a moment; Cosmos.  During the cocktail hour of the wedding there were men in penguin suits walking around with trays of beverages.  Water (for pansies), champagne (for sophisticated people very un-like myself), and pretty pink Cosmos, (right up my fucking alley!) So I proceed to snatch one, sip it, no wait, pound it, and grab another.  Needless to say I had about 4 in a half hour.  Granted they weren’t THAT strong, but whatever.

            I go up to the bar to refill my drink later in the evening, and I am pretty sure I was cut off by the bartender because the next thing I know I am drinking straight cranberry juice.  Who does that?!  I am not a fucking moron!  I know the difference between Cosmos and cranberry juice!  Fuckers.  So I turn to my friend, who is hammer faced, and ask him to get me a Cosmo because I clearly have been cut off.  He is standing behind me and winds up and smacks my ass so incredibly hard.  I mean, fucking hard.  I think there may be a bruise there.  I am uncertain, but I know for a fact I am covered in bruises in other areas, as per usual.  Every time I drink I wake up with bruises, and it sucks. 

            So he is laughing at me about the pain that I am in, and I am almost crying, but I am intrigued.  So we go out to smoke and such and he tells me I am his favorite person in the world.

            “Well duh!  I am fucking awesome!”

            “I know, you are!!”

            Laugh laugh laugh, smoke smoke smoke. 

            Again, I make awkward eye contact with the hot guy I recognize.  But I will not approach.  I don’t know if that’s too much, or maybe its too bold, but whatever, just let me drink 4 more cosmos and were good to go!

            Fuck it!

            “Hey, Cheese, is that the guy you wanted to introduce me to?”

            “Yes!  That’s him!  Come on, I will introduce you two.”

            Shit

            Introductions.

            “Oh, I have heard a lot about you from Cheese.  I was wondering which one you were,” he says to me.

            “All good things I am sure?”

            “Of course!”

            He’s lovely looking.             

Moving on…  After party at the hotel.  I am feeling groovy, I decide I am going to change in the room, so I head upstairs to do so, and lo, I find myself tangled in my own dress because there are clasps that I do not have the ability to reach.  Weird!  Wait for it!  Who is strolling down the hall but the hot guy.  He picks me up and throws me over his shoulder and carried me a few feet down the hall.  Funny.  I am placed on my feet and shit, so I decide to ask him to unclasp my dress.  Am I wearing a bra?  NOPE!  That dress was a total body fat sucker, so no need for a bra!  He does and it’s not awkward because I am feeling good and I frankly don’t give a shit.

I go change and head to the bar to meet the rest of the gang.  Now were hanging out with the hot guy and were chatting, we go outside to smoke and he comes with us.  Were sitting on the stairs outside and were talking about sex, as per usual.  I don’t know what it is about my friends but there is always that conversation which involves sex.  I mean, I don’t mind, clearly, I write a sex blog for Christ’s sake.  So the guy is sitting there laughing at us because were ridiculous and hysterical. 

“So, ‘name’ is this guy going to be your wedding sex partner?” Finny asks me.

So SUBTLE! 

            “I don’t know, hey, are you going to be my wedding sex partner?” I ask him.

            Oh so subtle.

            “Sure!”

            Winning. 

            We all head to my room for some late night pizza and shit and slowly one by one the gang leaves and the guy goes to leave.

            “‘Name’ what the fuck are you doing?  Go after him!” Finny yells at me.

            “Ahhh!!  I don’t know what to say!  Fuck it!”

            I go into the hallway hoping to see him and sure as shit he is at the end of the hallway.

            “Yo!  What are you doing?” I yell down the hall.  Keep in mind it is about 2AM at this point and people are sleeping and fucking and doing whatever people do in hotel rooms at that hour. 

            “Nothing, what are you doing?”

            “Nothing…”

            One thing leads to another and I find myself in his room, in his bed, and my hands are tied in his tie and looped over the bedpost.  I am paralyzed.  I am loving this.  HAHAHA!  I love drunken wedding sex, especially with strangers.  (Is that weird?)  I wind up sleeping there and waking up at 6AM because I was to drive to North Carolina the following day for my new job.  Lets just say this, I don’t leave at 6AM, I leave at 8:30. 

Moral of this story is follows; have drunk wedding sex as often as possible.  With strangers.  Why strangers you ask?  This is why with strangers, you never have to see them, speak to them, hear from them, or deal with stage 5 clingers!  THAT’S WHY!  Why would you want to hook up with someone you know and have to see them out at a bar or driving in the lane next to you?  Be the praying mantis ladies!  Make out, fuck, bite off the head, and don’t leave a number.  Easy peasy!