When you don't care if you end up with him forever, embodying Sméagol/Gollum will surely sway the decision...for better or for worse.
At the adolescent age of 16, I wanted to fuck everything. That's right, girls are horny little things. I had been wanting to go on a date with this guy I'd barely known, but had seen around my friends at various parties/places/small concerts. So I told him "Hey, give me your number, and I'll text you when we should meet up to do things together... sometime." More than willing, he put his number in my phone and the rest is this story. My parents thought he was wholesome when he came to pick me up at the house. A decent car, decent clothes, a slight respect for my parents, then we headed off. We were going to see a movie, then indulge in party favors at my friend's going away party. Of course my parents thought I was just going to dinner after and then headed home, but the lies I told them the next day were very different from that promise.
As we are leaving the theatre, he suggests we acquire magic mushrooms from his friend. Being my 3rd time tripping, I was excited to say "duh, please."
My friend, let's call her Sarah, was leaving to California, and wanted to have a blasty blast—so I saved some for her. Upon arrival to her party, the shrooms had started to kick in, and my date and I were laughing hysterically. "Oh Sarah—don't go!" we shouted periodically throughout the night, then fits of PDA and ass grabbing continued.
We left the party a little early in order to get to his place and "freely" trip how we desired: without our clothes on.
After drinking too much, I had begun to black out the evening. During this blackout, I can honestly say, I had never felt more alive. I came to during our walk into his house. We started to kiss harder, stumbling over rugs and doorways (why do doorways have that random raised wood as you pass over them?), trying not to trip or release our lips from contact.
Our clothes were placed effortlessly all over the house. I blacked out a bit more. I came to again, this time while we were fucking. Being even more excited that I had gotten in this position without much thought made me feel accomplished.
That's when the shrooms really decided to let him have it.
I stopped riding his face almost instantaneously, jumping off his lovely mustache...only to head to the corner of his room for whatever reason. That reason being that I was tripping hard. I imagined being in the restroom of some abandoned house. Being scared and stupefied with excitement was enticing me assume the position. This turned out to be in the corner of his bedroom on the floor. I took to a squatting position.
This overwhelming feeling of emotion and queasiness came and I felt the only way to release this was to take a glorious shit. In the "bathroom."
"Coryn, NO!!!!" but I couldn't be stopped. I needed to release my joy so that others in the world would know about it! When you're on shrooms, you have all these "answers" and "amazing thoughts." I felt the need to share.
As I started releasing my perfectly shaped poo emoji, the realization that my date was growing angrier was becoming clear. The grin on my face was becoming a worried frown. I looked down and saw nothing but dung below me. I grew a little sad, thinking, "Is this what I do now? THIS is what I do now!"
He shouted "What the fuck you nasty bitch!" then I quickly crab walked/embodied Sméagol/Gollum while stepping over a few feet, and decided to urinate on his pile of laundry on the floor. My glorious urine was going to make everything all better. He then jumped off his bed and shouted "Why does this shit always happen to me?!" I became quite sober after releasing my fluids, and grabbed for my clothes.
I put them on as he stood there in shock. The need to laugh until it hurt my abdomen wouldn't go away, so I put my clothes on steadily while continuously trying to hold back my joy. I had released something amazing, and no one else would be able to enjoy it's glory except for him. Feeling closer to him, I became a little scared. Fight or flight was my response to his shock.
Sméagol/Gollum reached into my pants pocket and typed in the coordinates to my friend, Sarah's house. The morning light was coming out, and I had to get the fuck out of there. I had 20 missed calls from my parents. My trip decided to go bad/sober up. Running out of his house was the only viable option at this point. His shouting and negativity weren't for me anymore. I realized how embarrassed I was. Oh fuck, did I take a shit on his floor? Never mind that, my parents had put a "runaway" report on me the night before—this way they wouldn't be responsible for any of my shenanigans had I gotten into any.
Boner still erect, I yelled "BYE PERVE. DON'T TEXT ME!" and proceeded to run out. Too bad though, he was so cute. Just too embarrassing for me to rekindle any kind of relationship. #MyWorstDate