A few days ago, I read Witty Sex Kitten’s Coitus Interruptus rant, and then yesterday, I was most amused by Phin’s whoops-accidentally-put-icyhot-on-my-crotch posting. [Ed. Note: Both blogs are now defunct.] Together, these two stories reminded me of an unfortunate incident, which functions as a lesson to be learned, that occured to my college roommates. Heh heh.
One evening, my roommates, who are married now and hopefully have forgotten this frightful evening, were having sex as usual — because they weren’t married then. I had just broken off a relationship and had sworn off sex for awhile. Obviously, that didn’t last long, did it? Anyhoo, it was her time of the month, and they were one of those couples who just didn’t care. Regardless of any hormonal condition, they had sex all the time, and they had the dented headboard to prove it.
One night, the female roommate and I were both awakened by screams coming from the bathroom. We approached the closed door from the darkened hallway and wondered what could have possibly occurred. It sounded like an awful, dreadful accident. Had he fallen in the shower, perhaps broken a bone, maybe even cut himself badly while shaving? The screeching only grew worse, and we knocked on the door, only to be greeted with a “Go the fuck away!”
Of course we didn’t go away. That would make us bad roomies, wouldn’t it?
We pushed the door open, and there, in all his manly glory, lay my male roommate on the cold tile floor. He was in so much pain that he felt no shame, and he looked at up at us pitifully. Somehow he managed to gesture towards whatever had caused his agony and barely managed a weak whisper, “…but it said ‘non-acetate’ on the bottle.”
Apparently, he fell asleep immediately after sex, and, thus, his girlfriend’s war paint had dried. In the middle of the night, he awoke and tried to wash it off with soap and water to no avail. So, he figured the fingernail polish remover was worth a try.
He decided that worked a bit too well.