Did I sleep with a nutcase that decided to carve my dick like a jack-o-lantern while I slept? Or maybe her vagina had teeth. My dad used to always tell me when I was a teenager to stay away from them, because they bite. I thought he was kidding. Oh God, I can’t look. What if some of it is missing?
"Calm down. Let's assess the situation," Drew said, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands on his knee. "Have you noticed any of the following: unidentified discharge, burning sensation when you urinate, lower abdominal pain, testicular pain, pain during sex, fever, headache, sore throat, weight loss, chronic diarrhea or night sweats?"
He sounded like a f**king commercial for syphilis.
"Eeew dude, no. I just have blood on my dick," I answered irritably, pointing to the problem but refusing to look.
He leaned over and looked down at my lap.
"Looks okay to me," he said with a shrug as he stood up. "You probably just bagged a virgin."
I sat there with my bloody, non-chlamydia infested dick flapping in the breeze and my jaw hanging open.
A virgin? That can't be right.
I glanced back down in my lap and took a closer look. Okay so it wasn't the bloody slaughter I originally thought I saw. My dick hadn't been Texas Chainsaw Massacred. There were just a few pink streaks. I wore a condom though. How in the hell does something like this happen? You use those God dammed things as water balloons in middle school and couldn’t get them to pop even if you threw them at a bed of nails. The one time you need them to stay in one piece they decide to say “fuck this shit”. It was like condom anarchy.
But more importantly – Holy hell! Why would she let me take her virginity? Why in the f**k would she give something like that to me when I was completely shit-faced and couldn't even make it sort of enjoyable for her? What an epic fail. I probably ruined sex for her forever. She's probably thinking right now "Seriously? That's what I waited for? What a joke."
"I have to find out who she is. I need to apologize," I mumbled to myself, standing up and pulling my boxers and jeans on.
"Whoa, dude. You didn't even get her name? Wow, you're kind of a dick," Drew said with a laugh, walking over to the bedroom door and opening it.
I threw my shirt over my head and then followed behind him, hopping on one foot to slide my shoes on.
"Thanks for making me feel a whole lot better Drew. Really. You're a stellar friend," I said sarcastically as we maneuvered our way through a house full of passed out drunks.
"Hey, it's not my fault you banged and bailed bro," he stated as he took a giant step over a naked chick wearing just a sombrero and opened the front door.
"I didn't bang and bail. In case you failed to notice, I woke up alone in bed this morning."
"With a bloody johnson," he added, walking down the steps of the porch.
"With a f**king bloody johnson," I repeated with a groan. "Shit. I have to find this girl. Do you think it's wrong for me to ask your dad to use his private detective resources to find out who she is?"
Drew’s dad opened his own PI agency a few years ago when he decided following the rules of the police department didn’t fit in with his busy schedule.
"Are you asking me if it's ethically wrong or if I think it's wrong? Because those are two very different questions my friend," he replied as we crossed the street and got into his car parked by the curb. If only Drew took after his father in some way…
"I have to find her Drew," I said as he started up the car.
"Then find her we shall my little virginity thief!"
"We never found her, did we big guy?" I muttered to Drew, who I assumed was still sitting next to me.
"Are you speaking to anyone in particular or do your shot glasses usually respond?" replied a very un-Drew-sounding voice.
"Now, if you'll direct your attention to the one Claire is holding, that is called the Purple Pussy Eater. It has four speeds: Yes, More, Faster and Holy Shit Balls. It's also got a g-spot stimulator that is sure to tickle your fancy. Could you hold it up a little higher so everyone can see, Claire?"
I shot Liz a look that clearly said “bend over so I can shove this thing up your ass sideways” before I raised the rubber penis above my head with absolutely no enthusiasm.
The living room full of completely trashed women screamed in excitement and bounced up and down in their seats when I raised my arm, like the thing I was holding above my head was the actual penis of Brad Pitt. It's plastic, people. And it's filled with double A's, not sperm.
"Go ahead and pass it around for me, Claire," Liz said sweetly as she reached into her suitcase for yet another rubber rod.
I held my arm out lifelessly in front of me for the drunk-ass sitting closest to grab, but she was too busy complaining about how her husband's spunk always tastes like garlic.
Please God don't let me ever come face-to-face with this man, I beg of you. I will look at his crotch and see cloves of garlic popping out of his dick.
"Yo, Lara," I called, trying to get her attention so she could take this dildo out of my hand.
"Claire, remember to use her Bedroom Fun Party name!" Liz reminded me in a sickeningly sweet voice that was starting to make my ears bleed.
I gritted my teeth and imagined raising my arm back up and chucking the fake phallus right at her forehead so she would have a permanent dick head mark right in the middle of her face that people would point and laugh at. Is that a birthmark? No, it's a dick mark.