Let's start with an update from yesterday. The RESOUNDING complaint in the comments was that the post ended without the gory details. People, you HAVE to TRUST ME. If there were anything worth sharing I WOULD HAVE TOLD YOU.
The truth is that he was obviously NOT a serial killer (or I would not be here to tell this story.) It turns out that he was just a new graduate student at Harvard who didn't know many people in town but was tired of staying in the dorms. He came home with me, we kissed a bit and fell asleep and I drove him home in the morning. In the light of day, without the aura of a serial killer about him, he was pretty ho-hum and we did not continue to date.
Now aren't you sorry you asked?
Today's story involves some real MEAT, if you know what I mean. Also, I should mention that even I am slightly horrified by this story so if some of my stories make you feel like you just witnessed a car accident you may want to skip this one.
Several years ago when I was (on-topic) SINGLE and VERY. VERY. YOUNG I had the opportunity to go on a business trip to New Jersey with a co-worker (with whom I was involved) and a Client. The purpose of the trip was to give the client a tour of a corporate facility and then take him for a round of golf at a very posh country club.
The day went off without a hitch. The presentation was spectacular and golf was amazing. The weather was beautiful and the course was impeccable. After the round we dropped our bags with the caddy and went inside for a drink. A half hour later we came outside to pick up our bags, drive the client to the airport and then drive home. The only problem was that one of our golf bags wasn't there - and it was the bag with the car keys. We talked to the caddy. There was a bag there matching the description of our bag - maroon with black trim but instead of my coworker's $150 clubs it had a complete set of Callaway Clubs with little booties on each one. Whoever had traded these $1k+ set of clubs for our cheesy clubs and car keys was going to be one unhappy camper when he got home.
My coworker was very assertive. The club vowed to find our clubs for us. And they did. Unfortunately the clubs belonged to a VERY wealthy club member who lived an hour away and he was NOT INCLINED to turn around and drive back to the club to give us our carkeys and clubs.
Fortunately the club doubled as a wedding reception venue and had a handful hotel rooms that they used for the wedding party. They offered us 2 of these for the evening - one for me and one for the men - and in the morning they promised to send a courier to get our clubs for us.
We agreed. And started drinking. VERY EXPENSIVE SCOTCH.
We chased the scotch with MORE SCOTCH, wine and an AMAZING dinner. At that point we were very, very intoxicated. We had managed to get our bags from the car. My coworker and I graciously gave the client his own room and retired to ours.
The two of us, VERY YOUNG (did I mention that) proceeded to ENJOY our good fortune and EACH OTHER - LOUDLY. When we decided that we'd not had enough to drink we stole down to the bar area. It was empty - thank goodness because we were both NAKED. The bar itself was gated but there was a Gin and Tonic display, complete with limes and glasses that somehow ended up in our room.
We had a couple of shots that we CLEARLY DID NOT NEED, revisited our enjoyment of the PREDICAMENT (AND EACH OTHER) and fell asleep.
In the morning, I'm not sure who was more embarassed, us, the client or the club.
We had breakfast, grabbed our clubs and headed home.
Thankfully the dot.com bust happened shortly afterward because the client got a job in another part of the country and I never saw him again.
You're my hero.
Posted by: Jennifer @ three pugs & a baby | April 28, 2010 at 08:35 AM
Now that was a great story! I am so embarrassed to admit this, but I have a very vague memory of running around naked after hooking up with a guy in my dorm freshman year. Apparently I was ready to go back to my room... without my clothes?! But my door was locked b/c I didn't have my keys on me - surprise! I had to sneak back up to his room and pray to God no one saw me!! I still die of embarrassement every time I think about that one.
Posted by: Diane | April 28, 2010 at 08:37 AM
I agree...you are my hero!!
Posted by: Deanna Hernandez-Arza | April 28, 2010 at 08:39 AM
Good times!! Everyone has been there, few people are brave enough to admit to it.
Posted by: Kristin Glasbergen | April 28, 2010 at 09:07 AM
I never really had single sex, and I feel like I totally missed out.
Posted by: Amy | April 28, 2010 at 11:38 AM
omg you are great!
Posted by: Tricia | April 28, 2010 at 11:55 AM
I worked in a golf country club once. Trust me when I say that those places are not as conservative as you might think. ;)
Posted by: TheNextMartha | April 28, 2010 at 11:56 AM
Speaking as someone still having hot single sex, that's hilarious. I can't imagine running off naked in a hotel. Kit, ya got balls. And good alcohol. :)
Posted by: THATgirl | April 28, 2010 at 02:50 PM
I used to work the night shift in hotel reception in the tropics. I saw more naked people in that job than I have had sex with. I'm not sure what it is that makes people sneak out to the pool to have sex naked (actually, no, I get that part) and leave the towels and clothes in their room. Along with their keys.
Or in the elevator. Apparently more people fantasize about having sex in an elevator than you would think. For future reference, hotel elevators are set to automatically return to the floor reception is on. The doors will automatically open. Generally you can see into the elevator from the reception desk. Hotel guests are more athletic than I had previously thought. Especially Dutch and German tourists. I don't know why the Dutch and German tourists especially.
Posted by: Sally Megan | April 28, 2010 at 04:41 PM
This story is effing HILARIOUS! Also, did not realize you're a fellow golfer. Have you been hiding this from me? I feel like a chump now! ;)
Posted by: Cass | April 28, 2010 at 08:49 PM
That's a fun story.
Sometimes I get my husband VERY drunk, make him strip and carry him next door to the fancy hotel to have sex on the roof.
We usually pass out and are awakened the next morning by the pooping pigeons. Or the other drunk naked people lying next to us.
Posted by: Brilliant Sulk | April 28, 2010 at 09:57 PM
This is ringing some bells for me, but I'm not quite sure. Now I'm not sure I want to remember.
Posted by: oneandonly_erin | April 29, 2010 at 09:49 PM
A lifetime of happiness!No man a live could bear it; it would be hell on erath.
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