Dear Ms. M.,
On PRIDE weekend my boyfriend had a ton of work to do in preparation for an upcoming business trip. Since we live together, I decided to get out of his way and attend a PRIDE party with some of my closest gay friends. It was held at a very exclusive members only club which also happens to be the very same place where my boyfriend works. After several rainbow-colored vodka shots and shots of tequila down the penis ice luge – in addition to the standard cocktails I was drinking – the last thing I remember was my friend trying to force me in a taxi. But I kept insisting I was okay to stay.
For three hours, I lied passed out drunk in my bikini on a chair by the pool. Thankfully one of my boyfriend’s colleagues came to check up on me, likely to ensure I was still breathing. Apparently, I handed her the phone to call my boyfriend, at which point she told him he should come get me.
According to accounts of the evening (I don’t remember a thing), my boyfriend arrived just in time for me to find refuge over the porcelain God, where I spent the next half hour. Eventually he came into the restroom to check on me. That’s when the worst happened.
I asked him who he was and told him I didn’t know him. Then I threw up again, this time simultaneously shitting myself right into my bikini bottoms. The fact I’d made homemade chicken-fajita-enchillada-buritto the night before helped in no way. My boyfriend cleaned me up as best he could while his colleague assisted in retrieving my heels, purse, and clothes from under my chair. Eventually when he was able to put my skirt on me to conceal the mess, he requested the assistance of a manager to physically carry me down the stairs out the door.
Meanwhile, I’ve been mortified that I shat myself. I know it must have been something horrendous because when I was finally coherent about a day later, he informed me the bikini bottoms were in a washcloth wrapped up in a bag in the shower. When I went to clean them, I had to pressure wash the thick massive gobs of poop off with the shower massager. It was the worst smell I’d ever experienced – kind of like bad baby poo. He told me he thought my body was in such shock that it was likely digestion that wasn’t ready to come out, hence the awful smell. He said he genuinely thought he was going to lose me, or at best take me to a hospital.
Now I feel more embarrassed than you can imagine. I’ll never be able to show my face at any of his work parties again, much less the parties I’m invited to without him. How should I approach his co-workers moving forward? Is there an easy way to rectify this? One of my friends says I should just ignore the situation and pretend it never happened, which I’m inclined to do. Help!
That man loves you!!! What a saint! There aren’t many guys who would have handled such a hot mess – literally.
It’s imperative you own up to your mistakes. Apologize to your boyfriend profusely, but back up your words with some action. This dude deserves some SERIOUS appreciation: rub his feet, give back massages, and definitely inundate the guy with blow jobs … if you don’t already.
As far as rectifying the situation with his colleagues, you definitely need to write an apology cum thank-you letter to both of them. Humor is the best tool to wring out embarrassment. Suggest you just couldn’t resist putting your mouth around the penis ice luge! Then say something along the lines of, “In addition to being mortified and completely embarrassed, I am deeply sorry I overdid it, behaved inappropriately, and took you away from the fun at the party. But I also want to let you know how incredibly thankful I am that you were there to help me. I appreciate your kindness and concern more than words can express.”
Include a present with your apology cum thank-you card. Even though these people were doing their jobs, you took away from their fun time, and you also left a poor reflection of yourself and your boyfriend. Hopefully the silver lining is that they witnessed a man who really loves his girlfriend by taking such great care of her.
And by the way, if you were my partner and that had happened, honey I wouldn’t have even tried to salvage your bikini bottoms! I would have thrown those nasty things out in a heartbeat. Mmmm! Maybe next time you’ll act more like a gay man, and think twice before bingeing on mexican food on PRIDE weekend. I’d file this one under “Sh*t Happens.”