The setup was perfect. Jack had arranged his room flawlessly. He’d spent a good half hour depositing all pieces of garbage in their proper waste receptacles and/or hiding places until the floor was visible again. He’d checked all possible lighting arrangements until he was sure he’d found the best lights to leave on for optimal seductibility. He’d lit scented candles and cracked the window open just enough to let the room stay warm while allowing any smoke to drift out of the room. On his nightstand lay enough contraceptives for at least three or four sexual marathons. Before he departed for a night of romance, he left a Barry White CD on repeat. He had created the ultimate venue for lovemaking. A sexatorium, if you will. She would be powerless against its sheer sexual grandiosity. As Jack walked back to his room at 1:36 with this Mystery Girl in his arms wished he hadn’t made his bed, combed his hair, or bought all those damn flavored, lubricated, ribbed condoms. “She’s great,” his friend Carl had assured him. “Totally hot, down-to-earth, and most importantly she thinks you’re cute. Hell, I’d date her but I’ve got that girlfriend person. Seriously, you’ll like Eliza.” Jack pondered what Carl had said as leaned her against the wall next to the door to his dorm room. Maybe I heard him wrong, Jack thought. Maybe by “hot” he meant “sweaty.” Maybe “down-to-earth” referred to how she usually spends part of the evening passed out on the floor. Maybe “she thinks you’re cute” was just a confidence boost. Or maybe she thinks everyone is cute. Maybe I need to break Carl’s nose later. Speaking of broken things, it seemed that Eliza didn’t feel like standing up anymore so she’d decided to collapse into the middle of the hallway with a painful-sounding thump. Jack glanced at her as she lay sprawled out on the linoleum. Silent, serene, complete. Drunk as hell. He rolled his eyes as he pulled his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the portal to his Love Chamber. “Wake up, Drunky,” he said, lightly nudging her ribcage with his foot until her eyes were open. She gave him a glazed over smile and then stood up and grabbed his arm. “Is this where the bed is?” she said, raising one eyebrow and flashing Jack a grin intoxicated with lust in addition to heavy doses of strawberry rum. “Yes. It’s also where the floor is,” returned Jack. “C’mon, get inside.” And with that he pulled her into the room and flopped her on the bed. “Oh, so you’re ready?” she slurred while taking off her jacket. “Not yet,” Jack muttered as he blew out the scented candles, unplugged the CD player, and flicked on as many lights as possible. Everything that was previously sexy was now gone. The atmosphere was now dead. “Are those for me?” Eliza questioned innocently as she pointed to the pile of assorted condoms on Jack’s nightstand. “What, those? No, those aren’t even condoms. They’re wart medications. Small, individually wrapped, glow-in-the-dark wart medications.” “Warts?” “I’ve had to use several ointments ever since I got those herpes.” “Herpes?” “Oh yeah. I’ve had them ever since I slept with some whore down the hall. But man, you should see the warts. They’re all over. Heck, I can barely sit down because of ‘em. Sometimes I take a permanent marker and connect them. Man, you couldn’t imagine all the stuff I’ve drawn because of my unsightly epidermal imperfections. This week I took out that marker and made myself a pony out of all my warts. A pony that, coincidentally, has herpes, too.” “Pony?” “Well, since that’s obviously turned you off, I guess I’ll sleep on the floor now,” said Jack, grabbing a spare pillow and blanket from his bed and laying it next to the bed. Eliza looked up at him very solemnly. Jack looked back, but more fearfully. Finally, Eliza burst out laughing. “Oh, Jack, you’re crazy.” He glanced at the recently blown out candles, the CD player plug hastily yanked from the wall. That huge pile of condoms sitting atop his nightstand like a spermicidal rainbow. “Yeah, I am.” “So will you join me?” she offered, patting the bed and making a big, drunken puppy dog face. “I’d love to, but, like I said, I’ve got those herpes or whatever. And I’m on my period.” At last, Jack was able to use the period line that oh so many disinterested women had used to screw him out of screwing on oh so many occasions. “Your…period?” “Yeah, my man period. I just get to leaking and I don’t stop for a few days. But then again, that could just be all the scabs oozing pus. But I guess these things happen when you have syphilis.” “Oh, not again with the jokes, Jack. Climb in here with me. I’m not wearing any underwear.” She covered herself with Jack’s bed spread and bit her lower lip, exposing two front teeth she must have forgotten to brush for the past couple weeks. This would have turned Jack on if he had a candy corn fetish or perhaps a Jack-o’-lantern fantasy. All he knew was that he wasn’t going to treat this girl with the kind of trick she wanted. “Hey, will you look at the time? I better get some sleep fast now. On the floor. I’ve got to get up early tomorrow and volunteer.” “For what?” “The…uh…center for children…who….uh…are crippled. And have glasses.” “I thought earlier tonight you said you hated kids.” “Just the ones who can walk. And they need me there. I’ll be refereeing the hockey game.” “Crippled kids can play hockey?” “Not very well, but I wouldn’t be a very good person if I told them they couldn’t, would I?” “I guess not, you big softy. Now get into b-“ “Will you hold that thought? I have to go brush my teeth or something.” Jack turned off the lights and grabbed whatever he could from the basket of toiletries near the door and wound up exiting the room holding a comb, some floss, and a canister of shaving cream. He leaned against the wall and slowly slid down it until he was sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. What am I going to do?, he thought. This woman isn’t leaving without the sex I promised her back when I thought she wasn’t a filthy drunk. Then he decided to do what he always did when he needed inspiration. He went to the bathroom. Lazily, he got up from his sulking position and entered the communal restroom down the hall. He put his random hygiene products in a sink and chose a urinal in which to meditate. With a zip of his pants he was a Zen master. “You don’t expect too much of me,” Jack said to the urinal. “I show you my genitals, I pee on you, I pull a lever to wash you off, and I leave. Why can’t everybody else be as easygoing as you?” “Ay, Jack. Talkin’ to the pisser again?” This came from the smirking mouth of Dexter, the sleazy guy down the hall. Dexter never seemed to be too nervous or insecure to do anything. He stood there using the urinal directly next to Jack, clearly violating the unspoken rule that says you must space yourself as far away from everyone else when peeing. He wore a leopard skin bathrobe and shiny black flip flops. “Yeah. I have a problem,” said Jack. “And she’s in my bed right now. Pantyless.” “Oh really?” inquired Dexter. “What’s wrong with this one? Another fatty? This one have a mustache? Hey, remember that time you brought back the girl with only one eyebrow? And it wasn’t like it was one big one. It was just one. Over her left eye.” “Yes, I remember,” said Jack, flinching as he remembered a few mishaps from earlier that year. “But this girl doesn’t look undesirable at first. But as soon as she opens her mouth, whether it be to talk about stupid crap or to chug a beer, you’ll only think less of her. Oh, and she might have crabs, although I haven’t checked.” “Lucky for you, I’m a seafood person,” grinned Dexter. He made a face that implied that he was winking, although Jack couldn’t tell if he actually was closing one eye because Dexter was wearing shades despite the fact that he was indoors and it was after 2. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?” asked Jack, lowering his eyebrows glaring at first, but then thoughtfully smiling as everything clicked. “Wait, you aren’t saying you’d…“ “Yeah, I’ll totally go in there and bang that lady. You wouldn’t happen to have any rubbers, would you?” “On the nightstand. And it’s good to hear you’re going to use a condom when getting with that tramp.” “Use one? No, man, I just like to blow them up after the screwing’s over. The flavored ones taste delicious.” “O…kay,” said Jack, zipping up. Outside his room, Jack addressed Dexter with total seriousness. “Just go in there and give her the sex she wants. Make it quick. Go in there and get out.” “Oh, I’ll do that. Several times. Booya!” roared Dexter, pelvic thrusting the air. “Jack, is that you?” slurred Eliza through the door. “Yes it is, baby, and I’m ready for love,” called Jack to the half-naked floozy in his bed. “Listen,” he said, speaking to Dexter again. “Her vision’s not at its best and her balance is totally off, but it’s possible she may notice that you’re not me and freak out. So, if possible, act like me and keep it dark.” “Sure, man, whatever. I’d wear a cowboy hat and a diaper if it involved getting some poontang. That’s why they call me Dexter the Sexter.” “You’re lucky your parents didn’t name you something that doesn’t rhyme with something related to humping. And alas, Mr. Sexter, I’m fresh out of Pampers and Western apparel. Should I just go in your room while all of this is happening and return back to my room when you’re finished in a couple minutes?,” asked Jack. “Oh no, my friend. An experience with the Lovemeister takes all evening and maybe a little bit of the morning. I’ll tell you when it’s over early tomorrow. That is if I’m not all tuckered out from having sex on your bed for several hours. Feel free to crash in my room. The door’s unlocked because I have nothing worth stealing. And don’t worry about my roommate. He moved out after he saw what I did with his pillow while he was at class.” Jack cringed at the thought of that soggy bed accessory as Dexter flicked off the lights and closed the door. “Jack, honey, are you ready to take me? Hey, how long have you had that beard?” Jack heard Eliza ask the New Jack. Then there was the sound of a leopard skin bathrobe falling to the floor and Dexter’s voice saying, “I grew it for you, baby. Now shut up and love me.” And then bed springs. Jack’s bed springs. Moving because the local pervert was satisfying a drunk girl in his bed as a favor. A favor that would most likely involve towels and possibly Windex to clean up. As Jack closed the door to Dexter’s room he reflected on the evening. “Is this how someone is supposed to find love? Granted, love is blind, but is a blind date really the best way to find it? Sure, the title would imply that this is how we’re supposed to go about it, but look at all it did for me. I was promised gold and all I got was rusty aluminum at best. Does the search for romance (or at least sex) really have to be so difficult?” Jack sighed to himself. “I guess I’m just bitter because two people that aren’t me are dirtying my bed with bodily fluids.” He climbed into Dexter’s bed and pulled the covers over him. “Romance,” he said aloud while placing his head on Dexter’s crusty pillow. “Yuck.” 
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