The whole encounter happens within a couple of minutes. I guess it’s been awhile for the ginger. He leaves the shower just as fast as he came inside after quickly finishing. Why is it only occurring to me now how something might be wrong with a guy who is willing to pay for an out of state stranger to get to his place by promising they’ll get them home too? I’m suddenly a little more aware of my surroundings but as my mind just plays over and over what just happened, I oddly continue to shower. I condition my hair and I wash my body thoroughly from neck to toe with ginger’s bodywash.
I am getting cold. I am less drunk.
I am aware my number of partners and encounters is ever-expanding.
“What the fuck is going to happen now?” I think as I exit the shower and dry myself off. I go to the ginger’s room and put on a see-through wife-beater and tight women’s pajama shorts.
“What are you doing?” the ginger asks me as he approaches me. I take a couple of swigs from my “water” bottle, making sure not to react to the burn of the cheap alcohol I’m swallowing. It’s not difficult. I’m still extremely numb, but now I’m desperate to stay that way.
“Nothing. Waiting for you.” I reply, patting myself on the back for being straight-faced.
“The kid I Sponsor is having a crisis, you’re going to have to leave.”
Fuck. This isn’t happening.
“Sponsor in what way?” I manage to say with an even voice even though I have a strong suspicion he doesn’t mean Sponsor as in the “Big Brother” program. I already know what he’s going to say, if he’s willing to admit he’s an Addict himself.
“As in ‘AA.’ Get your stuff together, you have to go.”
Fuck my life.
“Are you serious right now? Can’t you help him while I’m in another room?” I ask, grappling with my hidden but present drunkenness juxtaposed to this ginger’s apparent sobriety.
“Yes, I’m serious. No, you can’t stay. I have no way of knowing what he’ll need. Hurry up and I’ll request an Uber,” the ginger says, leaving me to consider the situation I’m in.
“I just have to use the restroom!” I yell in his direction, which is true. I am on a medication that makes it difficult for me to relieve myself even when it’s pressing. I found this out from an Army Veteran taking the same medication. He told me this after trying for an exceptionally long time to cum while on top of and inside me that the medication we already knew we shared can have this side effect. When I’d been taking an eternity to pee after sex, he told me it had that side effect as well. Made sense. My inability to urinate quickly had been an ever-increasing problem for me, because even drunk off her ass Autumn knows not to get a UTI. I am having so much sex now that I must be responsible. And I am a responsible Blackout Alcoholic.
I sit on the toilet and wait. I had used the restroom prior to my shower so I don’t have as much to release as I did after the ride here, despite the gulps I’ve been sneaking whenever I get the chance. I sit and I wait. And wait. And frustratingly wait.
“Okay. You’re stalling. You need to get out,” I hear the ginger say from outside the door.
How dare he?!
“I am not stalling! I want to be out of here more than you want me out of here! There is nothing about you that could keep me here. I’ll be ready to go as soon as I’m done urinating, a necessity for me so you don’t end up giving me a UTI, asshole! Educate yourself.”
“You’ve been in there forever. I don’t know why you’re trying to stay, but now, I feel triggered, and I have to get in touch with my Sponsor.”
“Then go fucking call your Sponsor! I’ll be out sooner if you’re not hovering over me,” I yell at the ginger. Unbelievable. Like I want to stay in this creepy mistake for one minute longer.
I wait. I am not able to accomplish my task for what feels like a lifetime. While I am “stalling,” the ginger is getting increasingly upset. I don’t know if it is me that he’s mad at or if he can’t reach his Sponsor or what his issue is.
“What’s your game? You come to someone’s place and you hover in their bathrooms hoping they’ll keep you?” the ginger shouts.
This deeply offends me. This guy invited me over under pretty false pretenses of a good time, took advantage of me when I was in a compromising position, and now thinks I want to stay with him? Psychopath. “You should call your Sponsor again, because you’re unhinged!”
It takes me maybe 15 minutes to finally go.
Thank the Lord God.