The Fishbowl Effect
We hooked up one afternoon after a bottle of Mango Mimosas. He was my roommate’s friend and I was convinced I had Vaginal Depression thanks to a Womens Health article. Our afternoon bone-sesh lasted a total of two minutes and cost me a fair amount of dignity and there really wasn’t much there to begin with.
“I’m about to get into a serious relationship, but if I weren’t we would make a good couple, right?” he asked handing me my sock so I could clean myself off. I wiped off his off-spring avoiding eye contact. To be honest I had mixed emotions. On one hand it was kind of perfect because no one would ever have to know. It won’t happen again. No drama. No awkward moments. On the other hand….. who does he think he is? I did the only thing I could think to do and kept drinking until I passed out at 6pm.
The next morning shorty after setting sail on a charter boat for a fishing trip with my roommates… and just as the sea sickness began to kick in I was informed my secret had been leaked. The regret, the sea, the jokes, the Mango Mimosas, the smelly fish… it was all too much. I spent the three hour trip throwing up into a bucket.
On land after a blunt, a beer and a Big Mac later things appeared to be looking up. That was until he walked in with his new girlfriend. I could sense the eyes on me looking for a reaction. I watched her kiss his lips knowing all too well where they were not even 24 hours ago. I didn’t realize “about to” meant that night. All the sudden I was back on the boat. I went to the bathroom and threw up again.