Oh god.
Reason #104 why being a parent is a bad idea:
WARNING: True story, and not for the faint of heart.
A bunch of my friends from Philadelphia have come to visit and have taken over my apartment. As such, I can't study there because I'd wake them up. So I decide to walk to the commons on the edge of campus, which is open 24/7 and is quiet, well-lit, and best of all, devoid of any distractions. But first I decide to make a quick stop at the Unimart down the street to buy some liquid caffeine.
There's a girl in front of me, blonde, a bit curvaceous, and stumbling about in such a way that you know she's drunk. But even if she weren't stumbling, I'd wager 4:1 odds that she's intoxicated; nobody else is awake at this hour unless they're walking home from a party. She pulls out her phone and starts dialing, and although she thinks she's whispering, you can hear her half a block away as she yells into the mouthpiece.
"Oh my god, I hate everyone!" she wails, as the tears start to flow down her face and I hear the sniffling in between her somewhat coherent babbling.
"I never want to talk to another boy ag-ag-again!. All they want to do is get their dicks sucked! No, I will not keep quiet, let me talk! They're all gross, and they all want the same thing, and I'm not going to su-su-suck anyone's dick. I wont do it, it's not right!"
There's a lull for a moment as the person on the other end is presumably trying to calm her down and get the full story. I imagine the mystery person to be her best friend, perhaps a girlfriend that was abruptly woken up by this drunken and all-too-distressing phone call in the midde of the night.
"What happened? I'll tell you what happened, I met this boy and he was so nice, but all he wa-wa-anted was to get his dick sucked! I'm not sucking DIIIIIIICK, do you understand me!? Wh-wh-why aren't there any gentlemen around here, they're all cock-sucking losers."
At this point I've caught up to her, and lo and behold, she's going to Unimart too. The few other people on the street have heard her wailing, and I can hear the snickering. I myself snicker at the last comment. The men that all want the same thing are cock-sucking losers. I wonder if this girl understands the irony of her words. She pauses for a moment as I walk past her inside, and I get to hear the last bit of conversation before she hangs up.
"Dad, I need to buy some food. Let me call you back, okay?"
She then proceeds to buy a econo-sized bag of tortilla chips along with jars of queso and salsa, and I'm sure that in her fragile state, she'll binge on them and wake up with two empty jars and a bag of salty crumbs. Hangover optional.
But that's nothing compared to her father, who probably won't be able to sleep for weeks as he contemplates the worse: his daughter walking home next week at 3:00 AM from some party where this time she was too drunk or too eager to please some guy who, like all other men, just wants one thing: to get his dick sucked.
R
WARNING: True story, and not for the faint of heart.
A bunch of my friends from Philadelphia have come to visit and have taken over my apartment. As such, I can't study there because I'd wake them up. So I decide to walk to the commons on the edge of campus, which is open 24/7 and is quiet, well-lit, and best of all, devoid of any distractions. But first I decide to make a quick stop at the Unimart down the street to buy some liquid caffeine.
There's a girl in front of me, blonde, a bit curvaceous, and stumbling about in such a way that you know she's drunk. But even if she weren't stumbling, I'd wager 4:1 odds that she's intoxicated; nobody else is awake at this hour unless they're walking home from a party. She pulls out her phone and starts dialing, and although she thinks she's whispering, you can hear her half a block away as she yells into the mouthpiece.
"Oh my god, I hate everyone!" she wails, as the tears start to flow down her face and I hear the sniffling in between her somewhat coherent babbling.
"I never want to talk to another boy ag-ag-again!. All they want to do is get their dicks sucked! No, I will not keep quiet, let me talk! They're all gross, and they all want the same thing, and I'm not going to su-su-suck anyone's dick. I wont do it, it's not right!"
There's a lull for a moment as the person on the other end is presumably trying to calm her down and get the full story. I imagine the mystery person to be her best friend, perhaps a girlfriend that was abruptly woken up by this drunken and all-too-distressing phone call in the midde of the night.
"What happened? I'll tell you what happened, I met this boy and he was so nice, but all he wa-wa-anted was to get his dick sucked! I'm not sucking DIIIIIIICK, do you understand me!? Wh-wh-why aren't there any gentlemen around here, they're all cock-sucking losers."
At this point I've caught up to her, and lo and behold, she's going to Unimart too. The few other people on the street have heard her wailing, and I can hear the snickering. I myself snicker at the last comment. The men that all want the same thing are cock-sucking losers. I wonder if this girl understands the irony of her words. She pauses for a moment as I walk past her inside, and I get to hear the last bit of conversation before she hangs up.
"Dad, I need to buy some food. Let me call you back, okay?"
She then proceeds to buy a econo-sized bag of tortilla chips along with jars of queso and salsa, and I'm sure that in her fragile state, she'll binge on them and wake up with two empty jars and a bag of salty crumbs. Hangover optional.
But that's nothing compared to her father, who probably won't be able to sleep for weeks as he contemplates the worse: his daughter walking home next week at 3:00 AM from some party where this time she was too drunk or too eager to please some guy who, like all other men, just wants one thing: to get his dick sucked.
R