It’s My Party, You Can Sleep On The Couch if I Tell You To


I woke up the day after Valentine’s Day feeling like shit, emotionally and hungoverly. My girlfriend Shmashley was gushing about what a good partner I was for making sure she had gotten some sweet gifts on VDAY, and I’m living with the reality that though I had gone into the day satisfying one Shmashley, I had gone to bed satisfying another (it was one way satisfaction b-t-dubs; no reciprocation, that would come MONTHS later. *i’m not bitter*).

About 3 pukes into the day later I decided that it was time to own up to (some of) my choices from the previous night. Via skype I admitted to Shmashley 1 that I had made out with Shamshley 2 on Valentine’s Night. Now, that wasn’t the whole truth but it did get some of the guilt off of my conscience. Somehow my girlfriend Shmashley didn’t break up with me over this apparent budding attraction between my roommate and I (come to find out much later that it was probably because she was also cheating on with me some blonde from the soccer team at her University). This was the first time that I learned about a little thing called “lying by omission” and I also learned that lying through a computer screen is a lot easier (and safer) than lying straight to a girl’s face. I also learned that I was an asshole, so there’s that.

*Theme music and opening credits play*


Fast forward a couple months to the next eventful thing I can think of which is Shmashley 2’s 20th birthday, which also coincided with the end of Freshman year and us throwing her a huge surprise party. The party was actually a “reverse surprise party”, where we invited Shmashley 2 over to our friend’s apartment and we were all having dinner and about 10 minutes into the dinner 50 or so people rushed into the apartment and she was surprised as hell. It was actually a pretty cool idea, props to us.

That night was an eventful one. The apartment we were at belonged to a guy that Shmashley 2 was sleeping with, but that her parents wouldn’t allow her to date because well… they were racist assholes. Additionally, Shmashley 2 and I were still hooking up, so this guy wasn’t so cool with me (aka he was really jealous and intimidated). This was also the first night the Shmoebe was going to be hanging out with this dude, let’s call him Shmott, that she had a bit of a crush on, and we were all crossing our fingers that they would finally touch mouths.

The party was bumping (people say that right?) I was out on the balcony placating my long-distance girlfriend, Shmashley (don’t worry, spoiler– we break up after the Summer, thank god), when birthday girl Shmashley 2 came out with shots in hand. We took the shots and I held the phone away from my face, made some excuse about losing service, hung up and proceeded to make out with the birthday girl like any gracious friend would do. IT WAS HER BIRTHDAY AFTER ALL. This was instantly followed up by her guy friend coming out the door and basically grabbing her away from me and bodying me up. Now to give you a visual, at the time of this event I was about 120 pounds soaking wet, 5’5″, and though somewhat masculine, I was still very much female-identifying and this guy was 6’3″, a black belt in taekwondo, and very much a dude that shouldn’t have been trying to fight a girl. Anyway, he tried to fight me, I dodged that as quickly as I could and went to grab a beer–fast forward a couple years and throw some testosterone into the mix and this night would definitely have gone a lot differently, and a lot bloodier (for me…not him, obvi, I’m still tiny). Shmashley 2 didn’t help my case when she told him that I would be staying the night and he could sleep on the couch, in his own apartment. Oh, the way I have with the ladies. Yikes.

When I look up from this drama I realize that Courtney has disappeared. I have no idea where she could have gone but I had noticed that earlier in the evening her now-ex Shmellen had showed up for a brief visit before leaving to meet up with a tinder date (or whatever we had that was like tinder back in 2011… plenty of fish? ok cupid? tumblr?). This left Courtney less than thrilled and looking for more alcohol and bad choices — in retrospect, these were red flags that I should have paid more attention to.

I noticed then that Courtney came out of the back bedroom with a man. My lesbian twin sister, came out sweaty and half clothed, sex hair like you wouldn’t believe, followed by the biggest blackest rugby player you could imagine. Like you literally could not have picked more of a MAN for my lesbian sister to make this decision with…the juxtaposition was astonishing.

She could hardly formulate a sentence and when I tried to discuss with her the potential mistake she had made, it turned into a bit of a screaming match. Then I turned on the dude… not saying it wasn’t consensual, not saying I know anything about what happened in that room, but I do know that my sister couldn’t walk a straight line and he was walking fine and my big brother senses were ringing off the hook. Again, mind you, I’m a tiny little thing, and he was built like an NFL linebacker. I got into his face enough to satisfy my brotherliness before turning on Courtney and continuing to lay into her for her less than stellar life choices (honestly, who am I to judge this? Looking back, that was a bit of the pot calling the kettle black, but oh well).

Courtney stormed from the apartment and all of a sudden the end of the year/birthday party had taken a turn in an uncomfortable direction and deflating the room. As Shmashley 2 and I trail after her, Shmoebe pulls away from sucking face with Shmott.

“Guys! We finally made out! Look!” She yelled, pointing to a grinning Shmott in the most adorable way possible.
“Yeah, well, Courtney fucked a dude, so.” Shmashley 2 said I don’t know if there’s ever been a better ending sentence to a party spoken ever in the history of Earth.

*Next Time on Nobody Scissors I’m finally single, the moment we’ve all been waiting for* 




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