For the Sake of Research: The Booty Call

What you may or may not have read in this conversation between Zaza and I -which although has domestic undertones is really just about sex- was the lead up to a little research that I conducted last night. I took one for the team here, and by took it, I mean I took it hard. I went for the one and only, the booty call.Having only been on one really bad booty call, that I don't really want to talk about, I figured (after a bit of a push from the girls), that this is something I should revisit. How could no strings attached sex in the middle of the night could never go wrong, right? The only bad thing I could think of was that I would potentially be out $6 dollars for the transit fare, and even then I might be able to get him to pay for my ride home.

To start off, the booty call is a bit of an awkward thing, it usually starts as a bit of a joke or someone alludes to it, and you're not always sure if it is something that should actually be acted upon. Since in this particular instance I had gotten invited out for dinner but a) had already eaten, b) missed my opportunity, and c) had to finish my laundry, I figured that, I could just skip the good stuff and go for the even better stuff. Trust me, I am never one to miss dinner, but my god, I wasn't going to miss dinner and the no pants party.

Second, it seems kind of odd to ask directions to your booty call. It seems like one of those things that are spontaneous, unplanned and a little bit sexy-magical. It isn't something you should have to google map. Or maybe it is something you should google map because going to the wrong address isn't sexy-magical at all. The whole trekking a half hour to get laid is weird feeling; to everyone else you look normal, but they don't know that your about to have sex and you could cream your pants at any second just thinking about it.

When I got there (after getting lost and going to the wrong apartment), I was really excited to get to see this guy's man apartment. He says he'd been cleaning it up in case I decided to come over (note: this is now a very non-spontanious booty call on his end). Still, it is a full on man apartment, utilitarian crate as a bedside table, toilet seat still up and three axe scented loofahs hanging from various places in the bathroom. Unbeknownst to The Hook Up, his brother, his friends and his girlfriend come home in their St. Patrick's Day stupor. Getting high in the living room, and forcing me to have to talk to The Hook Up and his brother's girlfriend about my hometown and how she thinks I live in the worst province ever. Even worse than Labrador, which is a huge insult. Thank god The Hook Up provided me with whiskey and root beer. This conversation was getting really heated, and the booze were going to my armpits, but I couldn't take my jacket off because I had chosen to wear a completely sheer shirt with a really hot bra underneath. Normally wearing this out to a bar I would be fine, but when only a couple of people around it made me feel like I was The Booty Call, and I wasn't ready to be that yet. Yeah I am a slut on the inside, but the outside still has a ways to catch up.

Finally they left and we jumped on each other. Obviously this is what I was here to do, and damn well I was going to do it. Of course I had made the right outfit choice once he got to see it. I even wore this necklace that perfectly falls between my boobs and points at my cleavage like a little arrow. Totally subtle. There is really nothing that gets you off like knowing that you don't need to be in love with this guy. You can scream a little, and moan a lot, because there is no need to impress. You just enjoy yourself. And of course you let him do all the work, because you paid $3 to get there and had to walk up a hill.

And the next morning it's not going to be awkward, because you are going to own the fact that you just had a night of sex. The best sex ever. Because you never have to say "I love you," instead just "where's my shirt?" And when the bedroom doors that lead into the kitchen some how magically open from the breeze coming through the windows, and The Hook Ups brother happens to be standing there and sees half of your naked body, you are going to own that too, because he is jealous because his girlfriend has a bad hair cut and moans unconvincingly.

You know that staying the night is worth it when he suggests that you go get breakfast and coffee together and he takes you into that coffee shop that he works at around the corner, and you know that a) he is going to pay and b) his co-workers are going to ask about you and he is going to tell them that you have an amazing rack. Then you will forever be known as that hot girl that he hooked up with at work. And this is okay, because he is going to call you again, and then you might just end up being friends with benefits. Which as we all know is the holy grail of sex romps.

In conclusion, I am going to say that go for it girls. Getting laid is only going to attract more boys to your nest. Think of it as an investment in your sex life.