It’s late. You’re several standards deep and, in your quest to feel something even remotely close to human affection, you’ve gone home with a stranger you just met. Deeds are done, towels are wiped, snoozes are hastily had. And then comes the cold light of day, when you must reconcile the consequences of your actions. Or not! Here are a bunch of ways to get out of that awfully personal situation, ranked by how likely they are to succeed and also how morally permissible they are. Don’t try this at home. At least, not your home. Someone else’s home is critical.
In a little orange bottle
Efficacy: 6/10. Assuming they don’t already have it.
Morality: 8/10. At least you’re honest!
Few phrases strike more dread into any student’s heart than “I have scabies”. As the thought of all that lotion and trips to the laundromat take effect, you’re almost certain to face eviction from their bed. So this one actually makes it way easier for you, because you won’t have to worry about making them sad. Just angry. And that’s way easier. If the company of the hour is at yours, strategically place a bottle on your nightstand when the time has come for them to leave.
In the dead of the night
Efficacy: 8/10. Silent but deadly.
Morality: 2/10. Literally ghosting.
This tried-and-true approach ensures a hassle-free departure, sparing you from uncomfortable morning chit-chat and giving you the chance to relish the familiarity of your own bed. Practice responsible tourism in their bedroom like you would in the wilderness - take only memories, and leave only footprints. And STI’s, maybe. Hopefully not. It's cold and it’s harsh but it’s practical and swift, and isn’t that exactly how you want to be known?
“I love you”
Efficacy: 9/10. You will not hear from them again.
Morality: 1/10. This is terrorism.
Few phrases strike more dread into any student’s heart than “I have scabies”, and this is one of them. Tell them you love them, tell them you want to meet their parents, plan a future, and then get the boot… or watch them disappear into a cloud of dust. This course of action is foolproof if your company is a BCom major, and nothing more than a cruel joke if they are lonely and looking for love. However! There is the small but incredibly significant risk of unexpected reciprocation, which would mean you need a nuclear option as a backup. Critic recommends faking your death and leaving the country.
By making yourself the most undesirable guest
Efficacy: 9/10. Free rent!
Morality: 10/10. You’re demonstrating commitment.
Go absolutely nuts. Make yourself breakfast, sleep ‘til noon, have a bath, and overstay your welcome in every shape and form. Go big or don’t go home. This one requires time and energy but it comes with fringe benefits, such as a hearty bacon and eggs, a leisurely morning in bed, and a surefire guarantee that you won't be invited back.
“Sorry, my cat died”
Efficacy: 10/10. You can use this nine times, per cat.
Morality: 6/10. Overused.
I’ve heard it earn deadline extensions, and it gets people off Saturday morning shifts. Would your one-night stand feel the same kind of sympathy? A dog is too major and a fish is too minor, but a cat has the perfect effect. Take their condolences, touch some wood, and hope that karma doesn't come back to bite. Also this may make you an enemy in the cat community, which isn’t great.
“I have church”
Efficacy: 10/10. Nobody doubts a zealot.
Morality: 0/10. Blasphemy.
A Sunday morning mass to avoid a Sunday morning mess. Seems convenient. Of course, God will know you’ve lied, and that you’ve had premarital sex. To make amends with Our Lord and Saviour, get down on your knees… and pray. 69 Hail Marys for you!
“It’s not you, it’s me”
Efficacy: 9/10. This is probably overkill.
Morality: 5/10. You’re honest but also an idiot.
You’re afraid of commitment, you need to work on yourself, blah blah blah. This failsafe has the ability to allow people to maintain situationships with no promise of commitment, and it can definitely get you out of the door unscathed. Don’t worry: you have a lot on your plate right now, and your three papers this semester are full on. Au revoir!
By just being honest
Efficacy: 5/10. Time consuming.
Morality: 10/10. Try it some time.
They say the truth can set your heart free; I say it will get you home in the time for the morning flat debrief. Just be straight up with them, like you were straight down on them last night. They might appreciate your sincerity or spread tales of your bad manners. Radical, I know, but candidness is a virtue.
By going to the next bedroom
Efficacy: 10/10. Although you are still technically there.
Morality: 0/10. Double dipping.
Two birds, one flat. Escape to the next bedroom - you get points for scoring twice and deductions for being dishonorable. Let’s hope the flatties aren’t living by the “hoes before bros” mantra. You’ll be the scandal of their flat and the champion of yours. Roll the dice. High-risk, high-reward.
A poem
Efficacy: 4/10. Better if paired with a midnight exit.
Morality: 10/10. What’s more moral than poetry?
There is no way more romantic to announce your departure than the age-old art of the written word. It is not a letter of rejection, but simply a Dickensian farewell. Put that pen to paper, and let flow a sonnet, a limerick, or even a haiku:
Forgotten your name
I have taken your hoodie
Thanks for the root though