Things My Friends Drunk Texted My Not-Boyfriend
By V.S. Wells
The problem with house parties full of drunken loved-up 18-year-olds is they seem to be filled with an urge to matchmake everyone. And to embarrass the people they like. And as I am single, and I was around people who have the poor judgement to like me, I was prime embarrassment material.
After multiple shots of vodka I was lamenting the fact that the boy I’m dating-but-not-going-out-with hadn’t texted me back, and my friends decided to take matters into their own hands…
1. 11:11pm: “Text me back. Right bloody now.”
This was courtesy of Kish, the campest guy I have ever met, who has started dating my friend Gill. Nobody believes he’s straight. It’s slightly awkward. I’m amazed it was so restrained, as his texts usually involve copious winky faces and musical references. Still, it was a good opener — somewhere on the passive-aggressive continuum, with the lack of kiss signifying annoyance, and a clear expectation of how the situation ought to be resolved. This was also before we started on the Jack Daniels.
2. 11:29pm: “You don’t love V as much as I love V.”
I don’t even know who sent this, as I’d left my phone on the kitchen table while I was in the bathroom. It’s nice to know somebody loves me, even if I’m not sure precisely who. The shift to third person is particularly revealing, and probably alerted the boy to the fact that these were not my words.
3. 11:41pm: “Why do you refuse to be touched up”
My favourite thing about this is the lack of question mark. It’s less an inquiry than a direct statement of fact. Apparently our relationship is much chaster than the ones many of my friends are involved in — but that may be because this boy and I spend all our time together on dates in London, rather than at house parties with sambuca and spare bedrooms. It’s kinda hard to grope someone’s crotch if you’re in Pizza Express, you know?
4. 11:48pm: “Yo do you have a small penis or can I blow you?”
Trent texted this. Trent has been dating my friend Margot for two weeks. Trent spends a lot of his time, while drunk, talking about penises. His penis, his friends’ penises, random guys’ penises, penises galore. I’m not sure why he presented it as an either/or question. It implies a false dichotomy. Do guys with small penises refuse blow jobs? Margot found this hilarious. I wonder if she’s blown Trent yet.
5. 12:37am: “Fuck me or leave me”
In the words of Anchorman, that escalated quickly. That’s a lie, it actually escalated over the course of about 50 minutes, but there were other things involved in that time. Like a fantastic rendition of a Rihanna song. Hell knows which one, they all sound the same to me.
6. 12:49am: “Why do you only send V one kiss don’t you fancy her”
The oscellation between crude sexual come-ons and whiny teenage attention-seeking is brilliant because it reflects the general mood of the party through the night — awkward, into flirtatious, into giggly, into lewd, into gloomy, into depressed and crying into tumblers of Sex On The Beach wondering why cocktails get more action than you do. (Or was that just me?)
7. 1:23am: “Are our attempts to seduce you working or have you already gone to bed WITHOUT HER?”
Of course he went to bed without me. We live an hour apart. But the fact it’s “our attempts” implies everyone was working together towards a singular goal, which is sweet but clearly not something they were successful at.
8. 2:00am: “I want to ride you like Bellerophon rode Pegasus.”
9. 2:01am: “That was a Classics joke.”
Two of the people left at the party at 2am study Classics. Neither of them are the sort to drunk text people on someone else’s behalf. I assume it was someone else trying to frame them.
Regardless, there is a lesson here: apparently I’ll need a magic bridle and the help of a Greek goddess before I ever get laid.