My Hookup Lit My Hair On Fire

hookup hair

I’m far from ashamed of my multitude of one night stands. Each one comes with a story, a story that I normally rush home to tell my roommates before I’ve even changed out of the shack shirt I just earned. Like most people, these stories are normally filled with details about his dirty room, how I managed to avoid giving him a blow job before we had the mediocre sex, how he passed out before I finished, and hopefully how I snuck out of his house without any of his brothers seeing me. However, recently, I had a hookup so awful that it knocked all those other stories out of the park.

It was a typical Thursday night. I had probably a little too much out of my box of Sunset Blush while getting ready, considering I had Calculus at 8AM the next morning, but I was ready to ignore that and enjoy another epic Thursday night in my college town. My friends and I head over to a pregame a couple streets down at our favorite frat. Everything was going smoothly. We’re throwing back shots of shitty tequila and talking to all the guys we’ve grown so close with over the semester.

At this point, everyone is feeling it, which means it’s time to hit the bars. Determined to not ruin my bank account, I turn the “I really can’t afford to buy my own drinks tonight and don’t want to have to keep flirting with different guys,” charm up to an all time high. That charm caught the attention of a boy named Jacob.

Jacob is a solid 7 out of 10. A little on the short side but with a really nice body and killer blue eyes. He managed to be an active member in his frat and on the school’s golf team at the same time. Also, he was really good friends with my roommate at the time so I thought he was fairly normal, and most importantly he had no problem buying my drinks all night.

As the night continued, my thoughts switched from “How long will he keep buying my drinks?” to “How long until he asks me to go home with him?” At this point, I knew I was going to end up in his bed at his disturbingly dirty frat house and was just waiting for him to say the words. The alarm on my phone was set for 7AM the next morning and I had already sent the text to my group message that I wouldn’t be ubering home with them. It had been a while since my last hook up, and I was more than ready.

After what seemed like ages, Jacob suggests we head back to his place. Without missing a beat, I did the whole “well, I don’t normally do that, but my friends just left so I think that’s a great idea” thing.

We get back to his room and start making out in his bed. Everything’s progressing well and I’m silently thanking myself for randomly shaving despite the fact I hardly ever do. Mid make-out I feel Jacob grab something off his night stand. It seemed a little early for him to be reaching for a condom, but I chose to ignore it and keep kissing him and feeling his rock hard abs (and another rock hard thing, wink wink).

Within 15 seconds of him grabbing something I felt my back literally burning — I mean like full on, painful burning. He had tried to light a cigarette behind my back and had CAUGHT MY HAIR ON FIRE.

To say I was infuriated would be an understatement. I immediately sat up and asked him what the fuck he thought he was doing, while also examining the damage this idiot has done to my already thin hair. He drunkenly muttered word for word, “I’m scared I’d be too drunk to perform tonight and thought a smoke would help me out.”

This idiot literally chose to catch my hair on fire, leading me to try to a multitude of DIY hair masks off Pinterest in a sad attempt salvage what was left of my hair because he thought that was a better option than admitting he had whiskey dick.

I was so angry and busy thinking about how a pixie cut will not fit my facial structure to even compose another thought when this asshole decided to open his mouth again. He thought that would be a good time to inform me that he now felt sober enough to continue. As if I was going to the let the fuckboy who just burnt off a solid four to six inches of my hair put any part of him inside me. Hell no.

Needless to say, I left immediately after that conversation and learned to double check the nightstand for lighters before getting in bed with a guy.

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You can normally find me sipping a margarita on the beach... actually thats a lie, you can normally just find me wishing I was doing that.

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