We headed out to Cabo Cantina for Jason's 32^nd birthday. Stiffler, Vick and I arrived unnecessarily early at around 9PM. A small crowd of 35 people was circulating through the joint. I had never been a fan of this place. It's basically one long room with an "upper level" that is a whopping two steps higher than the "lower level." Hitting on chicks here is always a pain in the ass because virtually everyone in the place is a witness. However, I have several friends (Jason included) who disagree with my disposition.

The three of us were finishing off two rounds of 24-ounce Coronas as Punchline and E.J. rolled through without their girlfriends. They were already shitfaced from drinking at a local sushi joint. Jason was still unaccounted for.

After four tall Coronas and nearly three hours, Jason finally arrived hammered out of his mind, apparently having just come from some Cinco de Mayo party down the street. I gave it 45% chance that the next day he wouldn't even remember celebrating with us.

Toward the end of the night, we organized a migration to this Karaoke joint called Shorehouse a block away. Just before departing, Punchline, E.J., and I started talking to some cute gymnast chick that had a twin sister with her. We got a look at her twin sister and it wasn't even close. Her twin was short, pale, and plump with a distinct hump on her schnozz. We continued to talk to gymnast chick. The girlfriend factor was restricting Punchline and E.J from anything further, so the gymnast chick was sleazily channeled in my direction. We recommended that she come to Shorehouse with us but she refused and said the obvious, "I have to stay with my friends." Just as we were about to move out of there, her face had abruptly become close to my face. I leaned in and we made out for about 10 seconds before she became self-conscious about her twin possibly seeing her. I got her number and took off.

Despite Shorehouse being the most packed I had ever seen, there was only one cute girl, who was obviously with a guy. The guy caught me staring at her and asked me if I had a "staring problem." I ignored him and didn't make eye contact. Tough guys like that don't have much to look forward to in life. It agitates them too much.

I made the 15-second walk back to Cabo to see if any new girls had surfaced. As soon as I walked in, gymnast chick grabbed my arm, poked my stomach, and began making out with me. We made out for another couple minutes before her twin popped out of nowhere to cockblock us both. That was the end of gymnast chick. I moved on.

Off in the corner, drinking by herself sat this cute chick with what appeared to be very nice real breasts halfway hanging out. She was wearing this bright blue skirt/dress thing with palm trees on it that reminded me of Cancun. An ideal situation at an ideal point in time. I moved in.

Me: Why are you sitting by yourself trying to look all mysterious?

Her: (she laughed, then sipped her orange drink)

Me: That drink doesn't even look that tasty.

Her: (she laughed again) It's better than what you're drinking (looking at my beer).

Me: I don't know about that. So just because we're at "Cabo Cantina" doesn't mean you have to dress like you're actually going to Cabo.

Her: (her eyes got wide) Heyyyy, I like this dress.

Me: (smiling) Yeah I was just joking.

We talked a little longer and we walked over to the bar to close out her tab. It took way too long and I had to take a leak. Bigtime. But this was my window to get laid so I didn't risk going to the bathroom. I asked her where she lived and she told me "like a block and a half away." I asked her if she had a bathroom there. She said, "Yeah of course dumbass." I was officially going home with her. Now I just had to hold in my pee until we got there.

When we got outside, not only did I realize that holding in my pee was affecting my wits, but I suddenly realized how fucking drunk I was. My swerve factor had a one-foot radius. I've been worse, but this was a substantial sign that I had overdone myself on the alcohol for the night. On the walk home, I actually stopped and looked at Hailey (Cabo chick) through an artificial sober lens, and then tried to see if I was coherent enough to tell if she was hot or not. Under the haze of alcohol, my mind produced the number……..8.5; which meant that in real life she was probably a 7.

As expected, obstacles arose. We had to stop at a liquor store because she wanted more alcohol. I considered peeing outside, but a cop was literally circling the liquor store. I concluded that he was destined to cockblock me. I evaded the inevitable and hung out in the liquor store, piss-less.

Hailey was taking forever. She couldn't decide between this blue drink and this red drink. In my impatience, I told her to get both and whichever she liked less, I would drink. Then she walked to the other side of the store and grabbed a box of Captain Crunch. Uh. 

As we walked out she held that box of cereal as if it were a 6-month old child. I whined about my potty emergency, but she paid little regard. The cop was still circling and it freaked her out. She told me she knew a "secret way." I told her we weren't doing anything illegal and I my pee emergency alloted no time for sillyness. She insisted her idea was legitimate.

She took us left around the liquor store through the parking lot area to the other side of the store where we would have been had we just gone right and walked nine steps. I told her that was probably the stupidest thing I had ever done. We fooled nobody. She clutched her cereal box tightly and continued to exist in her own little world. Holding in my pee this long was unacceptable. There would be no more foolish acts on what had become an obnoxious "block and a half" walk home.

When we finally arrived, I released my urine and regained my ability to smile and withstand her foolishness. Conveniently, no one was home in her two-bedroom beach house. But she didn't even have a room. Her room was the living room and her bed was a foldout. Whatever. We cracked open those mysterious drinks we had bought. She took the red. I took the blue. They were atrocious and I had to stop drinking after two sips. They tasted like a combination of laundry detergent and cheap cotton candy. She continued to sip on hers.

After she had enough of her red potion, she closed the blinds on a window that was the absolute farthest away from the bed, but then left the blinds open to the windows surrounding her bed. Then she walked over to the TV and turned on Bob Marley. I was sitting on the bed observing the bizarre sequence. She then walked to the bed, got on top of me, and we started making out.

After two minutes of making out, she got naked. I took out my condom, but as soon as I took it out, I knew it was hopeless. My dick was maxed out at 65% for the night. Whiskey dick was in full force. I put it on anyway and tried to stick it in, but it was like trying to stick a gummy worm into an ATM. We tried other activities.

She ripped off the condom and sucked on my cock ferociously. A little teethy, but definitely a top tier blowjob nonetheless. After about three minutes of this, her face went down to my balls. After a minute of this, it went lower. I couldn't believe this. She was about to toss my salad. This would be the FIFTH girl to perform this disgusting act on me. Like a moth to a flame, somehow my butthole has emerged as a hot commodity to women's appetites. It boggles my mind. Hailey went to town on my ass crack.

She ate my ass almost to the point that it seemed she was angry, and eating my ass was her way of taking out her aggression. At one point she tried to stick a finger in there. A couple girls had tried this before and I didn't let it happen. But I felt bad that my whiskey dick was preventing her from fucking me, so I let her try it. I have heard the asshole is supposed to be "erogenous" or something, so I gave it a chance. But after a minute, I had to make her stop. Her little finger felt like I was taking a girthy dump, times three. Now I understand why girls don't do anal.

After about ten straight minutes of salad tossing, she flipped me over on all fours and then performed what is known as "the rusty trombone" (The act of a girl eating a guy's ass and reaching between his legs to jerk him off at the same time, thus resembling someone playing an actual trombone). It was disgusting. But it was what she wanted, and I wasn't complaining. However, her handjob started to suck, so I took her off trombone duties and left her to do the rusty part.

I eventually jerked off 100% of my 65% boner on her face. However, when I came, she perfectly timed my orgasm and stuck her hand between me and her face to literally block my cum like she was Dikembe Mutombo or something. I laughed, and she got up and ran to the bathroom to wash up.  

Afterwards, we laid down in a state of confusion. I was still confused why all these girls liked eating butthole. She was probably thinking about eating some Captain Crunch. After a half hour of rest, she "nicely" kicked me out of her house. It was 4am.

I walked 20 blocks home on the quiet streets with a feeling of both relief and frustration. I knew I shouldn't have had those last couple beers. It had cost me sex. But I couldn't complain. After all, I officially had the cleanest asshole in Orange County.