I found a number in my phone under "Robot." I thought it was Smarterchild2.0, but I internet-creeped and discovered it belonged to a girl. I messaged her. Seemed questionable, but she looked good. We met up at some bar in deep SE where her friends "just happened" to be. Within minutes, the conversation turned to Pink Flamingo-esque stories about filling as many holes as possible and butt sex. Not your usual first date talk, but just fine by me.
We hit another bar where she slammed what felt like 8 shots of well whiskey, then followed her friends outside to smoke weed. After ten minutes, I investigate. I don't see them, but I follow loud crashing sounds around a corner to find the group destroying an Ikea desk in the street, bashing it with one of its legs and screaming. Umm, OK...I was leaning on a wall when she gets up against me and shoves my fingers into her pussy, screaming louder as we watched her friends smash the desk.
We packed four people and two bikes into her '92 Honda and headed to her place. She was drunk, but I figured we weren't going far and at least I would be getting laid, so it was fine. Wrong. She went full-on Mad Max. I yelled, "SLOW DOWN!" She called me a pussy and intentionally swerved into oncoming traffic. The car skidded into her yard where she left it askew, and we went upstairs. We fucked doggie until I notice her friends sitting on a couch, drinking PBR, and watching. I get soft and fall asleep, only to wake up at 6am to her vomming everywhere.