I believe I have had the shittiest attempt at a hookup ever.
To set the scene: I’d just freshly moved out of my mum’s house into my first flat. My flatmates are both out so I decide fuck it, time to hop on Grindr, what’s the worst that could happen? So I message this guy and he seems sweet, if a bit awkward. He Ubers over, I’m dressed up all cute, ready for a mediocre, awkward teenage hookup. I open the door and there he is standing at the very bottom of the steps. As I smile and say hello he looks up at me with pure horror in his eyes and mutters, “there’s been a terrible accident.” I look down and see…
He’s shat himself. Like properly shat himself. I’m not talking about a log rolled out of his trousers or a simple shart, no, our man has liquid shit streaming down his leg and pooling around his feet. I’m talking a monumental amount of shit. I wish I could say I shut the door. But there’s a man dripping in doo-doo standing in front of me! What the fuck am I meant to do? So I say “uh… do you want a towel?” (the first of many mistakes.) I give him one and he starts stripping naked on my doorstep where my lucky neighbours have full view of this literally shit situation.
“Can I use your shower?” asks the scat-covered boy now standing naked in front of me. I say yes (mistake number 2) and he hops into my flat because he only has one faeces-free foot. Also just to clarify, this was not a douching mishap on his behalf, I’m the one bottoming. To this day I don’t know why he shat himself. He gets in the shower and I grab the dish brush to try scrub the crap congealing on my doorstep.
He gets out of the shower and I give him some of my clothing. I’m now down two towels, two washcloths, a dish brush, a whole outfit, and my dignity. “Do you have a washing machine?” I should've said no. Why didn’t I say no!? I tell him if he stands at the BOTTOM of my driveway and hoses his pooey pants off he can use my washing machine (WHY???). This genius stands at the TOP of my driveway so shit cascades down my driveway like a poo tsunami while I watch in horror at his attempts to make it all some weird joke about “getting wet tonight”.
He puts his clothes in the machine and I suddenly realise I’m stuck with him for a whole wash cycle. I say, “I’ll make a cup of tea”. When someone says “I’ll make a cup of tea” that means a tragedy has occurred, right? I make this man his cup of tea and we sit down on my couch. He is WAY too close. This boy puts his hand on my thigh and wiggles his eyebrows at me. The AUDACITY. You just shit yourself in front of me and you still think I’m going to fuck you? I pluck his hand off my thigh and say “not today buddy.”
He moves to the other end of the couch, sighs forlornly, and, no joke, tells me “My dad died a year ago today.”
I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO RESPOND TO THAT! I have just been comforting you after YOU shat yourself on MY doorstep! I can’t also comfort you about your dead dad! What should I say? Is that why you shat yourself? This is a nightmare. Instead of comforting words of wisdom I put on a video and proceed to stay as far away from him on the couch as physically possible. You know that look boys do when they want to kiss you and they kinda look like a dead fish? He keeps doing that over the course of this painful 2 hour wash cycle while slowly inching closer and closer to me on the couch.
After a punishingly long wait, I hand this boy his now poo-free clothing and tell him to just keep my clothes. As he opens his bag inside it I see:
- A whip (not shaming, just surprised)
- A ziplock bag bulging with at least 30-40 condoms (who needs that many?)
- A huge buttplug. Like. HUGE.
Why the FUCK couldn’t he have been wearing the buttplug? That would’ve prevented this whole thing! He looks at me, wiggling his eyebrows again and I feel my bone marrow dry out and my dick wither and die. At last I get him out the door. I had almost blocked out the whole experience until I later hear my flatmate say, “Hey, where’s our dishbrush gone?”
And that, in my opinion, is the shittiest hookup ever.
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