Have you ever had a really bad one-night stand? Ever woken up next to someone and wished you could erase the whole night of mediocre sex with a less than average stranger? Well, if you have, you're not alone. Together with The Single Society, we bring you the funniest, most awkward, and painful first date stories from real women in New York City.
This one features Liam, a handsome accountant who overstayed his welcome the next morning and refused to put any underwear on. Read on, and be horrified!
This was the absolute worst one-night stand I have ever had.
After an agonizingly long day at the office, I made my way to the A train and back to my apartment in West Harlem intending to catch up on some garbage television and pass out next to a carton of half-eaten Kung Pao chicken.
I was on my way home from a long day at work...
I was fortunate enough to score a seat on the train at the height of rush hour where I settled and got ready to relinquish all attention to my beloved kindle for the duration of the commute.
I ended up sitting next to Liam, a handsome accountant on the train.
"Confessions of an Economic Hitman," a stranger next to me said. "Great read."
Being that I had just started the book on my way to work that very morning I had no viable opinion to offer, but I soon found myself discussing other pieces of literature with Liam, a devilishly handsome CPA residing on the Upper West Side of Manhattan.
We arranged to get drinks that week.
Like many boys in New York City, he was not one for forming a definitive plan, but rather texting sporadically at various hours on random evenings asking if I would like to
hook upgrab a 'last-minute nightcap,' which I always respectfully declined.
He text me Friday night when I was drunk, asking to meet at a bar...
One Friday night subsequent to an evening out with my girlfriends involving copious amounts of gin and tonics, Liam proposed we grab one more drink at a bar in close proximity to my apartment.
'A great idea!' I thought, in my drunken state.
This is was not a great idea.
I woke up the next morning with him in bed. F*ck!
I don't quite recall the details of our spontaneous rendezvous, but long story short, we woke up in my apartment side by side, scantily clad with remnants of mozzarella sticks strewn throughout the sheets and a half-empty bottle of wine on my nightstand.
He went to shower, I went back to sleep. I wanted him gone when I woke up.
I got up to go to the bathroom to quench the insatiable thirst and rid myself of the remaining gin, wine, and marinara sauce that lingered inside my mouth.
When I crawled back into bed Liam was awake and informed me that he was going to jump in the shower. I drifted back into my slumber fully expecting (and hoping) that there would be no trace of him when I awoke.
I woke up again to a nasty surprise...
I was finally awakened by the sound of a frying pan screeching against a rusty burner and the sizzle of freshly cracked eggs accompanied by the delectable smell of sautéd butter.
Liam was standing, TOTALLY NAKED, cooking breakfast in my kitchen.
I ascended the stairs of my duplex apartment to find Liam, stark naked, cooking up breakfast.
To my horror, his dangling testicles were quite literally pressed up against the knobs of my oven.
"Breakfast?" He asked, cheerfully, which I found even more obnoxious than his balls on my stove.
I made excuses for him to leave.
"No thanks," I said, finding it hard to fashion any sort of appetite. "I am going to take a shower and get started with my errands and such."
He didn't. And he was STILL NAKED!
When I finished my shower I was astonished to find Liam in my living room, his feet comfortably propped up on my coffee table, still completely naked with his scrotum displayed for my viewing
pleasurepain, and casually enjoying hismy eggs. For a minute, I thought he owned the place.
"Do you not have Netflix?" He asked.
FINALLY, he left. I've never been so disturbed.
Growing increasingly perturbed with his offensively entitled behavior…and his balls all over my sh*t…I told Liam it was time to make his exit.
"Alright. Let me finish my breakfast and I'll be out of your hair," he promised.
Liam ever so slowly finished his meal and after finishing the ESPN highlights he (finally) put his clothes back on and left me alone at last.
My first, last, and worst one-night stand ever.
About the AuthorTheSingleSocietyNikki is currently living in NYC with her husband (who she met on Bumble after experiencing the absurdity of online dating) and working in digital marketing. She clearly enjoys recording the ridiculous debauchery that is the modern dating scene. Nikki is also partial to a tall glass of Prosecco, her black/calico kitties, 90s music and playoff hockey. Drop her a line if you have a good story for her to write about.
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