One Night Stand Nothing to Write Home About

Lincoln Park native Shelley Warren went into Thursday night at Bar Celona with the plan of having a few pitchers of sangria, sharing some laughs and maybe going home and getting a quick fingerblast. But the attractive blonde bartender behind the well vodka and the unfortunate addition of $3 SoCo shots led to a night of passionate, semi-blacked out love making that was truly nothing to write home about.

“Normally I like to get really excited about the guys that I fuck,” said Warren. “But really, this guy was nothing to write home about. He couldn’t even really string together a full sentence, and I think he may have had a line beard. In fact, I think that my dad would be pretty pissed if I told him about….Christ, what was his name again?”
As Warren attempted to remember the gentleman’s name (which was, for the record, David: Da-veed) she flashed a quick cell phone photo from the previous evening featuring David flashing the rock ‘n roll sign over his opened mouth.
“He was nothing all that remarkable. I mean, he had Scarface posters on the wall, Cal Ripken framed Upper Deck cards and a Boston Celtics flag,” said Warren. “Nothing too crazy, but nothing to really write home to Mom about. I mean, he used the phrase, ‘Da bomb’ when referencing his penis.”

Warren tends to frequent bars with the intention of running into past loves to keep the numbers down, which she happily explains.

“I mean, I went to Bar Celona hoping to run into Rob or Frank, the two guys that I picked up there in January,” said Warren. “I’m really just trying to recycle when I go there, trying to be green and re-use some of the past penises. What do you call that in insurance? Renewing a policy? I mean, you should do that every few months. But when I saw David behind the bar, I just couldn’t help put another number under the belt.”

Warren went back to David’s place, conveniently above Houndstooth Pub, and they proceeded to discuss their life plans. (He wants to pursue his art, ‘50s inspired Marilyn Manson lithography, she wants to continue working in inside sales.) After discussing where they’d like to be in five years, Warren chose to peruse the apartment’s DVR lineup. Upon finding “Two and a Half Men” in the queue, she decided that David wasn’t “marriage/giving her phone number material” but still wanted to get in a good cock gobbling.

The two proceeded to have sloppy, meaningless sex (protected, for her pleasure) and passed out with bottles of Miller Lite still in hand. Warren woke up early, found her pants and skirted out the door before David (last name still unknown) could be stirred.

“If my parents knew that I was cavorting with this sort of jerk, the kind of guy that asks for a name reminder during sex, they’d kill me,” said Warren. “Don’t get me wrong, when we both talked about loving the Cubs and questioning Ryan Seacrest’s sexuality, I thought we were meant to be. But in the long run, nothing really to write home about.”

When David was questioned about his involvement and interest in Warren, he was befuddled as to why he hadn’t yet heard back.

“I’m not sure why the broad never got back to me. I posted like three missed connections about my cock missing her,” said David. “And plus, she knows that my cock is da bomb.”