There's something enticing about hitting on men when you're on a date . . .
by Panty Parade / Off Go the Panties
Waking up disoriented in a strange hotel room sounds like the beginnings of an urban legend. Maybe it was because I hadn’t had all that much to drink the night before OR maybe because my dog was there beside me OR maybe because my host had left hours earlier—but I did not find WELCOME TO AIDS scrawled in lipstick on the bathroom mirror or a stranger soaking in an ice-filled bathtub with a recently removed kidney.
I did find a few spent condoms in the trash.
I also found my panties and dress mixed up in the sheets.
As I made my way across the room filled with dirty clothes, generic whiskey bottles, and half-empty pizza boxes, I became acutely aware of the fact that I was ankle deep in self-loathing. My worn-out, haggard expression staring back at me in the mirror only confirmed the pieces of memory floating back into my consciousness.