When to bail on a hookup?
wallanon
When she spends over an hour in the hotel room bathroom, when she attempts to unsteadily put on her makeup while slurredly chatting you up after opening the door, or after she goes to the lobby to bum a cigarette? She left her shit in the room and doesn't have a key...but has the room number in her room even if she can't remember it.
What do you think?
Comments
last comment...room number in her phone...
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Sounds like a trainwreck to avoid
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Sounds like a night that will provide many memories.
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Depends how hot she is.
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Well at least she's not clingy. And yes depends how hot she is. She may just need time for the heroin to kick in.
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Curious, how’d it end?
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Sounds like drugs are involved get as far away as you can as fast as possible.
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@ twentyfive hes right run
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Being with a hooker is bad enough, a hooker on hard drugs... just leave.
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sounds like a fun interesting night!!!
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Start bailing after you get balls deep.
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Hasta la vista bebé.
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The wallanon story sounds like the prelude to a Dateline NBC that involves the drugged-out hooker calling her pimp to rob her trick.
In case you’re wondering, being on Dateline = non-aces! :(
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What makes this even more dramatic is the lack of reply from wallanon.
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^ maybe the hookup was worse than we thought
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maybe he got high with her and they're still partying...
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Train wreck! Do her good that one night & then stay the hell away. Unless, she rocks your world and you can deal with the bullshit
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Anyone else notice that wall hasn't been heard from since posting in this thread? ;)
To add to my earlier comment in this thread, no beuno. Sometimes you just have to have the discipline to recognize a bad situation, cut bait and head out the door. Honestly, I probably would have been gone 20 minutes into that shit show.
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he could have fallen in love and they ran off together.
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"Curious, how’d it end?"
Sometime around 1am I'm driving to an address on her phone, not sure exactly what for, but it will be good to have the night over with. She had earbuds in so I had the interactive map guiding me but no audio. After a bit of driving and unintentionally surreal chit chat followed by Tarantino-esque uncomfortable silence, I say it's ok for her to get some sleep. She's out like a light in about two seconds, and so still and quiet I'm not even sure she's still breathing. Her mouth was hanging open but with no sound whatsoever. I put the back of my hand in front of her face and can feel her breath, so she didn't just die on me. Her bag is about half as big as she is, and I'm hoping I don't get pulled over because there's no telling what's in it. More than once that night I thought I'd be rushing her to Lance's for off-the-books urgent care.
If I hadn't just experienced the strangest six or seven hours of the year, there was something almost endearing about the moment as she's sitting legs crossed with a too-big water bottle teetering in her lap over in the passenger's seat. The street lights were casting interesting shadows on her face, and she looked as pretty as someone can while essentially passed out from who knows what. But then I reminded myself she was fucking 191-proof bonkers and needed to get her out of my car. She wakes up right around the time I'm making a u-turn to double back to the house programmed into the phone. Think it was actually the house she's crashing at with relatives. She kisses me goodnight, gets out of the car, says we should do this again and walks slowly up to the front door. No one got stabbed in the heart with adrenaline, but I feel a little Vincent Vega-ish as I watch her walk in and drive off.
The odds of anything with her ever, ever happening again are imperceptibly low. And yes, she's a stripper.
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So @Wallanon, I assume next time this sort of 'opportunity' comes up you'll just go out there, drink your drink, say "Goodnight, I've had a very lovely evening", go home, and jerk off?
If not, you may have to change your screen name to Gawker-In-training.
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Wallanon: Whoa, this almost reads like a Dashiell Hammett novel...
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===>"If I hadn't just experienced the strangest six or seven hours of the year, there was something almost endearing about the moment as she's sitting legs crossed with a too-big water bottle teetering in her lap over in the passenger's seat. The street lights were casting interesting shadows on her face, and she looked as pretty as someone can while essentially passed out from who knows what. "
Only a hardcore Tuscler could romanticize a moment in which a drug addled stripper, who he paid for sex, was practically comatose in the passenger seat of his car. 😉
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Every ticket's not going to be a winner, @rickdugan. lol. Go ahead and have your fun.
I paid for a room. Since I admittedly chose poorly, the room came with a little more drama than expected. When you little TUSCLer scamps get together you're worse than a sewing circle...
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Wall, it was all tongue-in-cheek good humor. Also, I lump myself into that "hardcore Tuscler" category as I probably do as much stripper OTC as anyone on this board. Yes I probably would have handled things a little differently, but it's not an easy call when you have a fucked up girl on your hands and just want to get her home - I've been there too.
But I can't help finding that "endearing moment" bit to be funny as hell. I'll tell you that, when I was last in the same boat, I was more disgusted than anything, both with her and for myself for not seeing it sooner.
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