Of course, I wasn't alone for long. I'm the kind of girl who makes friends everywhere I go. Within five minutes I was practically besties with some boy going to the same stop as me, and within seven minutes we were partaking in the most intense make-out session I've ever had in public.
What was his name? Beats me. All I know is he was a nice combination of two races, but I don't even know which ones.
We got to our stop 45 minutes later and he tells me he has no ride to his home, which is another thirty minutes away. As if it was a good idea for me to be driving, I offer my services as long as he'll buy me some food. Off we go to Denny's (apparently IHOP was "too much" for him), I look like a monster eating my entire plate in a couple of minutes, he pays, and we go back to an intense make-out... This time in the car.
As I make my way to his house, he's fondling my goodies, I'm not complaining, and miraculously I'm driving safe. We get to his apartment, activity picks up.... then it dawns on me...
"Who the fuck is this guy?! I met him on PUBLIC TRANSIT! We went to DENNY'S! He lives on the worst street in this town!"Apparently my vodka had worn off just in time. I pushed him off of me and opened the door for him as he shouted some nonsense about "blue balls" and "tease," then "Can I get your number? Can I holler at you later?"
No. You can't. You can't even have my name, assuming we're on the same page here.
I quickly locked my doors and drove off, topless, and slapping myself in the face. Partly because I had blue ovaries and just gave up a perfectly fine one night stand, but also because not knowing someone's first name before I round all of the bases is just unacceptable... But let's be honest, I would have looked ridiculous asking for it after all that exploring, and it's the boys who are supposed to seem bad, not me.
So now, when I look at my little black book of people I've hooked up with, Denny is all that remains from this night of solo adventure.
...And the satisfaction of free food.