All of this happened because I woke up late. If I hadn’t woken up late that particular day none of this horrifying nightmare would ever have happened. The minute I woke up I had to go to the bathroom, and I mean I had to take a shit. I frankly just didn’t have time, so on this fateful day I left the house and headed off to work uncomfortable.

     At the time I was working at an elementary school on the Costa del Sol in Southern Spain. All day long I was dealing with children speaking to me in a foreign language that I hardly understood. Adorable little Spanish children that melted my heart and annoyed me to death all at the same time.

     It was almost Christmas and directly after school that day was the Christmas dinner with the entire staff. I was getting a ride from my friend Roberto, and certainly didn’t want to inconvenience him by having him wait ten minutes while I ran to the bathroom. Not only is that rude, it’s entirely un lady-like, and I really wasn’t sure how to say “take a shit” in Spanish. So off we went to the Christmas dinner together.

     This holiday dinner turned out to be extremely fancy, but to my joy and surprise included something that I truly love: FREE WINE. Being around only Spaniards and myself, the only way to avoid the awkwardness was to pound as much free vino tinto as humanly possible. The dinner basically involved a lot of nodding my head, laughing even though I didn’t know what the hell was actually going on, and hoping to god no one asked me a question directly. About seven glasses later, I was invited to join my coworkers at a local bar afterwards for dancing.

     Three cervezas more at the new bar, the time had finally come. I was so inebriated at this point that I didn’t give a shit where I took a shit. My drunk ass headed to the tiny toilet in the bar, and finally allowed myself to do what I had been waiting for all day long. By no surprise at all, as usual in Spanish bars, I quickly realized that there was no toilet paper. In my blurry mind I figured I would just, you know, shake it off and deal with it later. I shortly thereafter immediately forgot about the major problem that was happening in my nether-regions. Back to the dance floor I went to dance my booty away.

     At the time there was this American guy living in the exact town where the bar was, and in my current state I figured calling him would be the best plan of action. His name was James, and I had hooked up with him once before. I basically just gave him head in the hallway of this hotel and he came in 44 seconds. This guy wasn’t exactly my type, but there was something about him. He was cocky, and cocky I like. I sent him a text suggesting we meet up for some drinks.

     Thirty minutes later I was sitting on the steps of a old Spanish church waiting for James. I could not have been more excited when I saw him coming from around the corner. James was preppy, with reddish blonde hair, and quite stocky. He was going to be a lawyer, and wore cardigan sweaters far too often. We walked together to another local bar near the beach and he bought us some beers and a couple shots of whiskey. And then more shots of whiskey. Too many shots later we were off to his apartment.

     The minute we walked in the door it was hot. He slammed me up against the wall, sliding his hand around the back of my neck and pressing his lips against mine, sliding his tongue into my mouth. He reached his hands roughly up the front of my shirt, grabbing and massaging my tits. James took my shirt off, throwing it recklessly on the floor. He ripped my bra over my head, not even bothering to unhook it. My boobs were suddenly in his face, and his tongue all over my nipples. At this point we were still at the bottom of the stairs in his apartment. We stumbled up the stairs, so fucking drunk that we were literally bouncing off the walls stumbling up to the living room. I sat on the couch and James ripped my pants off my body, ripped my underwear off and started eating me out. I was moaning in pleasure whens suddenly James stopped.

     He stood up.

     “I’m sorry Liz… but … but I just can’t do this anymore”.

     I immediately thought he had some kind of problem with my vagina. Of course every woman is sensitive about their vagina and live in constant fear that there might be some kind of odor that may be less than appealing. I was so hurt and upset that I just screamed at him.

     “What? You don’t like my vagina? You think it smells or something? Well fuck you!”

     To which James kindly and oh-so-nicely replied:  “No… no, it’s… not that. The smell is coming from… well the… other part of your body down there. You’re a cool girl, and so I want to be straight with you, but I’ve literally got shit on my hands right now, and the smell is… it’s just awful”.

     Oh. My. God.

     At that point I immediately remembered the horrible fiasco that happened earlier in the night. My drunk idiot ass, instead of apologizing and immediately leaving like a normal person would do, just jumped right up.

     “I’ll just take a shower then. No biggie! I’ll just take a shower and everything will be fine and I will be right back.”

     I ran to the shower as fast as possible. Afterwards I just went traipsing back into the living room, dripping wet, and all I could find was a hand towel so that’s all I had covering me. I must have looked like the hottest god-damned mess he had ever seen in his life. And guess what? James just came right over and we continued right where we left off. The man kept going! And we fucked right there on the couch where the great shit incident of 2010 had occurred. And we fucked again in the morning.

     After finally getting home the next day, it really started to dawn on me how disgusting and mortifying the night really was. At the time I really just wanted a fuck buddy who lived nearby, and James was quite good in bed, but I was too embarrassed to tell even my closest friends. The poor man had had my shit in his mouth. After much contemplation and finally having the nerves to tell my roommate about the literal fucking nightmare that had happened the night before I somehow decided that it was a good idea to send James a Facebook message. I really needed to clarify that I was in fact a clean person, that this was just an isolated fucked up incident and so not the norm.

     The following day I sent him this message, verbatim:

     “I just want to throw this out there while I still have my dignity. Although I think I pretty much lost that last night haha. Well for my own sanity I just wanted to clarify that I normally do have really good hygiene, I swear! It's just that there wasn't any toilet paper when I went to the bathroom and I was planning on going home afterward and I was so drunk that I wasn't thinking clearly to solve the problem and then I forgot all about it. Anyway just wanted to clarify what happened during the worst situation that has ever happened to me! And thank you for acting so... normal and mature. In a couple of years this story might be really funny but right now I just want to kill myself. Well if you ever want to bone again let me know, I could use a fuck buddy in Spain. I promise to shower beforehand...ha.”

     I contemplated my sanity sending the message. After clearing it through my roommate  and assuring myself it was the right thing to do, I was then faced with the arduous task of titling this most awkward message. It came to me almost immediately.   

     Shit Happens.

I pulled his pants down and was momentarily terrified by what I saw. I remember seeing a documentary about this once before but never believed it existed for real. Now it was staring me in the face. I had three seconds to make a choice: put it in my mouth or get up and walk out of that hotel room.

Phuket was disappointingly touristy. So completely different from what I had imagined. My friends and I had finally made it to Thailand and we were staying at a Holiday Inn with hamburgers on the menu.

We were drinking TsingTao beers at yet another dimly lit and smoky bar, one of those touristy places full of English-speaking travelers. We started chatting with a group of English men that were sitting next to us, one of which was Dan. He was blonde with light eyes and hilarious. Not traditionally attractive, but the more he made me laugh the hotter he became, and the more I liked him. I laughed harder than I thought possible. Phuket was finally starting to look good.

Dan and his friends and me and my friends decided to go to another dark bar together. We ordered more TsingTaos and whiskey shots. Lots of Thai prostitutes. The soundtrack was one CD, playing the same ten songs on repeat. I was magnetized to Dan; he was one of those people that you instantly felt connected to, someone that made you feel at home.

After the club, we all decided to go to the beach. It was empty and dark, nothing but the stars and the moon lighting the beach. The waves crashed in methodically, rhythmically. The weather was perfect, warm with just a little bit of humidity. My friends and Dan’s friends, all sensing what was about to happen, said their goodbyes and headed back to their respective hotels to leave us alone together. Dan went to get a six-pack of beer, and I laid right down in the sand the way only a drunk woman would.

"Let’s go in the ocean!” I shrieked upon his return.

“What ya gonna wear, your knickers?” Oh shit that British accent.

“No… let’s just... just keep our clothes on. Come on! Swimming in the moonlight will be insane!” I jumped up and started dragging him out to the water.

“But I’ve still got my trousers on!”

“Who fucking cares! Let’s just jump in in our clothes, it’ll be sexy.” I slurred on.

I must have looked like one crazy bitch running into the water still wearing my Target dress. Surprisingly he came right after me into the warm water, and we finally kissed as the waves crashed over our fully dressed selves. We dove into the water with our lips locked. I grinded myself against his crotch, and was disappointed not to feel anything hard. We continued to make out, rolling in the sand, the moonlight bouncing off of us. We drank our beer on the beach, soaking wet and covered with sand.

We held hands as we walked back to his hotel room together. He threw me on the bed and kissed me, hard and deep. His warm tongue was so deep in my mouth it sent flutters down my spine. I was drunk, and too forward. I asked if he had condoms. He said yes, and pulled one out of his wallet.

"Oh, you guys have Durex in England too?" I asked.

"Of course, dummy," he charmingly smiled, "What do you think we use, Mars Bars wrappers?"

I laughed out loud and began to go down on him. I really wasn’t too sure what a Mars Bar was but I assumed it was a weird British candy of some sort. I kissed my way down, starting at his neck, then drunkenly kissed and licked his blond-haired chest. I made my way down further to what I was sure would be a hard penis, but I felt nothing. I was disappointed but determined to try harder. I ripped off his pants and boxers and found myself face to face with a real life motherfucking micro-penis.

I hesitated for three seconds and then put it in my mouth. It was so small. No bigger than my thumb and at first I couldn’t figure out if it was hard or not. It was like sucking a fleshy finger.

Why wouldn't he have told me? Wait, did he have to tell me? Life can be so unfair. I was so shocked by its small stature that I just continued to give him head, pretending like it was any old regular penis. He came so quickly and there was so much semen I was shocked.

I was relieved that it was over. This freaky sexual experience was done and I could go back to my Holiday Inn hotel room. I kissed him and started to put my wet dress back on.

"Wait, where ya off too?" he asked.

"I was…uh.. gonna go." I muttered.

"Oh, no. I'm not done with you yet."

I was scared to death and unsure of what that really meant. He pulled out the Durex and slid it right on that taut tater tot. He looked at me, and expected me to get on top. I apprehensively tried to slide down on his penis, but couldn't really feel anything. He moaned in ecstasy, and I figured I should too.

I rode that penis like it was the greatest sex of my life.

He came hard, (again!) moaning and jerking. For some reason we couldn't find the condom after it was over. We gave up looking for it and laid down, and he spooned me in the kindest way, like a boyfriend. In the morning he woke me up tenderly, kissing my forehead. We got dressed and he walked me back to my hotel room, holding my hand the entire way, my dress still damp. Two whole days later I was peeing when the used condom plopped out in the toilet. Whoops! A fond reminder of all that fun I had with that fleshy, fantastic finger. 

That bastard won.  He (or maybe she?) took everything away from us.  Took away our ability to communicate, our ability to enjoy, to be present, to be creative.  Took away the most important connections in our lives and turn them into shit.  Shit we didn't even see coming.  We've lost everything, all of it, because of that bastard.  And for whatever reason, we cannot seem to live without him (or her).  But oh how we love that bastard!  That bastard... the internet.  

     I pulled his pants down and was momentarily terrified by what I saw. I remember seeing a documentary about this once before but never believed it existed for real. Now it was staring me in the face. I had three seconds to make a choice: put it in my mouth or get up and walk out of that hotel room.

     Phuket was disappointingly touristy. So completely different from what I had imagined. My friends and I had finally made it to Thailand and we were staying at a Holiday Inn with hamburgers on the menu.

     We were drinking TsingTao beers at yet another dimly lit and smoky bar, one of those touristy places full of English-speaking travelers. We started chatting with a group of English men that were sitting next to us, one of which was Dan. He was blonde with light eyes and hilarious. Not traditionally attractive, but the more he made me laugh the hotter he became, and the more I liked him. I laughed harder than I thought possible. Phuket was finally starting to look good.

     Dan and his friends and me and my friends decided to go to another dark bar together. We ordered more TsingTaos and whiskey shots. Lots of Thai prostitutes. The soundtrack was one CD, playing the same ten songs on repeat. I was magnetized to Dan; he was one of those people that you instantly felt connected to, someone that made you feel at home.

     After the club, we all decided to go to the beach. It was empty and dark, nothing but the stars and the moon lighting the beach. The waves crashed in methodically, rhythmically. The weather was perfect, warm with just a little bit of humidity. My friends and Dan’s friends, all sensing what was about to happen, said their goodbyes and headed back to their respective hotels to leave us alone together. Dan went to get a six-pack of beer, and I laid right down in the sand the way only a drunk woman would.

     "Let’s go in the ocean!” I shrieked upon his return.

     “What ya gonna wear, your knickers?” Oh shit that British accent.

     “No… let’s just... just keep our clothes on. Come on! Swimming in the moonlight will  be insane!” I jumped up and started dragging him out to the water.

     “But I’ve still got my trousers on!”

     “Who fucking cares! Let’s just jump in in our clothes, it’ll be sexy.” I slurred on.

     I must have looked like one crazy bitch running into the water still wearing my Target dress. Surprisingly he came right after me into the warm water, and we finally kissed as the waves crashed over our fully dressed selves. We dove into the water with our lips locked. I grinded myself against his crotch, and was disappointed not to feel anything hard. We continued to make out, rolling in the sand, the moonlight bouncing off of us. We drank our beer on the beach, soaking wet and covered with sand.

     We held hands as we walked back to his hotel room together. He threw me on the bed and kissed me, hard and deep. His warm tongue was so deep in my mouth it sent flutters down my spine. I was drunk, and too forward. I asked if he had condoms. He said yes, and pulled one out of his wallet.

     "Oh, you guys have Durex in England too?" I asked.

     "Of course, dummy," he charmingly smiled, "What do you think we use, Mars Bars wrappers?"

     I laughed out loud and began to go down on him. I really wasn’t too sure what a Mars Bar was but I assumed it was a weird British candy of some sort. I kissed my way down, starting at his neck, then drunkenly kissed and licked his blond-haired chest. I made my way down further to what I was sure would be a hard penis, but I felt nothing. I was disappointed but determined to try harder. I ripped off his pants and boxers and found myself face to face with a real life motherfucking micro-penis.

     I hesitated for three seconds and then put it in my mouth. It was so small. No bigger than my thumb and at first I couldn’t figure out if it was hard or not. It was like sucking a fleshy finger.

     Why wouldn't he have told me? Wait, did he have to tell me? Life can be so unfair. I was so shocked by its small stature that I just continued to give him head, pretending like it was any old regular penis. He came so quickly and there was so much semen I was shocked.

     I was relieved that it was over. This freaky sexual experience was done and I could go back to my Holiday Inn hotel room. I kissed him and started to put my wet dress back on.

     "Wait, where ya off too?" he asked.

     "I was…uh.. gonna go." I muttered.

     "Oh, no. I'm not done with you yet."

     I was scared to death and unsure of what that really meant. He pulled out the Durex and slid it right on that taut tater tot. He looked at me, and expected me to get on top. I apprehensively tried to slide down on his penis, but couldn't really feel anything. He moaned in ecstasy, and I figured I should too.

     I rode that penis like it was the greatest sex of my life.

     He came hard, (again!) moaning and jerking. For some reason we couldn't find the condom after it was over. We gave up looking for it and laid down, and he spooned me in the kindest way, like a boyfriend. In the morning he woke me up tenderly, kissing my forehead. We got dressed and he walked me back to my hotel room, holding my hand the entire way, my dress still damp. Two whole days later I was peeing when the used condom plopped out in the toilet. Whoops! A fond reminder of all that fun I had with that fleshy, fantastic finger.