The Virginity Monologues

St. Patty's day in NYC is pure insanity. There's a parade and there's drinking. Heavy drinking. The kind of drinking that has you worshiping the porcelain shrine by 7 pm. The Irish are out in full force with their crazy accents and their unbelievable ability to pound back the alcohol at alarming rates. I found myself at a bar with some girlfriends from work, drinking my usual cranberry and vodka and stealing sips of Guinness from the girl next to me, location- East Village. The trouble with going out with smokers is that they frequently will leave a person to go have a smoke. It was during this vulnerable alone time that I was approached by a couple of loud, outgoing and adorable Irish guys. Conversation ensued. One of the first questions out of their mouths was, "when was the last time you had a fuck?" Rounds of laughter when they heard of my virginity status. Laughter of disbelief, but I assured them that I was being honest. When the question was turned around to them, the answer was, "This morning, of course!" They're nutters, they are. Well, they stuck around until the wee hours of the morning, and then opted to come back to a girlfriend's place with us. I had no ulterior motives. I needed to pick up some stuff, then just wanted to hop onto the comfort of the F train and make my way home. We rounded the stairs to Michelle's apartment, and the strain of the climb combined with severe drunkenness had me exhausted! I leaned up against the wall to catch a breather while the door was being unlocked. The next thing I knew, Crazy Irish Guy was moving in. I had neither the strength nor the will to resist, and so I stood there in the hallway, making out with Crazy Irish Guy. Holy crap could this guy kiss. I went from 0 to 60 in no time at all, with his hands on my face and in my hair. Oh men, if you only knew how much we love the hands in the hair. It turns me on faster then.... well, it just plain turns me on. He started to get grabby real fast, but I did not have the energy to be passionate and sexy, so I pulled away and mumbled that I needed to get home. I went inside grabbed my bag, got kissed a little more by Crazy Irish Guy in a desperate plea to get me to stay and do the no-pants dance, but I didn't have any rhythm and just wanted to get the heck out of there.

I've never been the kind of girl to pick up men in a bar. I don't really understand the whole concept of getting funky with people I don't know. But it's becoming a weird theme lately and I can't help but kind of run with it.