While I've never been one to be shy of the college, and now "real world," hookup culture (and at one point this summer was casually seeing three people at the same time...oh the life of a young city dweller!), there has been a certain, supposedly common experience that managed to elude me: the booty call. Yes, that wonderfully brazen, often drunken, propositioning of an individual that you are not interested in knowing beyond the biblical sense of the word.
Well, that tender innocence of mine (hah!) is tragically no more. Last night, around 2 in the morning, I was awakened by a text. To be more specific: a booty call text (or should it just be called a booty text?) from a guy that I dated earlier in the summer but was no longer really seeing (it was one of those unfortunate end of the college year hookups that bleeds into the first parts of summer. Plus we had made it exclusive, which was just stupid given the context, but that's another story).
Anyways, after trying to determine if I should allow my slight sense of horror (I mean, really, he couldn't call? He had to freaking text?!) to outweigh my total amusement over what was happening, I decided to just let myself be charmed by the absurdity of the situation (I mean, my first booty call! What a milestone!) and let him come over.
Of course, this whole business was made all the more special by the fact that he didn't leave afterward, but instead, came with me the next morning to the farmer's market/lunch outing that I had set up with one of the girls in my program, C. Now normally this wouldn't necessarily be awkward or embarrassing, except that I had helped C move into her apartment the previous night (she's in the same complex as me) and hung out with her until midnight, when we went back to our rooms to "sleep." Though I was clearly alone when she last saw me (and when I told her that I was tired and going to bed), I somehow had a guy in my apartment by the time she came back in the morning (and given his rather disheveled look and the fact that I hadn't mentioned him when we initially made plans, I doubt that she thought he had just dropped by for the trip). In other words, I am totally making the most awesome and professional first impression on my cohort-mate/person I'm spending the next six years with.
In the end, though, the way that I figure it is that at least I've gotten a funny story out of my first booty call (which was, of course, undoubtedly made all the more booty by the fact that it wasn't even a call, but rather, a text). Who knows, maybe someday I'll stop being able to joke about the ridiculous/embarrassing moments that constitute my life (or maybe I'll develop enough tact or fear of social disapproval that I won't regale these stories quite so publicly). But for now, I'm damned glad that I don't (and don't have to) give a shit about what others think of me or my choices. It feels good to be able to just laugh at myself and look forward to whatever other ridiculousity that may/will be coming my way.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
I have never gotten an official booty call either! I did have a drunken man shout at me in a bar tonight, "So where are you from?" I was like, "Erie" (not all that hard to understand given it was the town we were both currently IN) and he shouted, "What?" and I shouted, "Erie!" and he shouted, "Where?" and I was like, "HERE," and he was like, "I don't understand you!"
Two hours later, I realize it was not a "Where are you from" question, but rather, a "Where are you FROM?" question. I guess Erie does not sound like any Asian countries he knows.
Maybe your cohort-mate is impressed by your late night booty text prowess :)
i'm actually really interested in knowing how do you deal with explicit "where are you FROM" questions. i'm still at the point where i'll answer what i know they want to hear and then bitch about it to my friends later. what about you?
Well, the problem is that unlike a lot of Asian American people who get that question over and over again, I was actually born in South Korea, so in a way I feel obligated to admit, yes, I come from Korea! So I do fall into the category of telling them what they expect after the requisite "No, but where are you REALLY from?" Though sometimes, like in said situation, I don't even realize what the question is (because it's so loud and crowded probably) and just keep shouting the same answer. What I would like best to do, however, is play them some Yellow Rage :)
Post a Comment