Ah, freshman year. A time for new friends, laughter, and getting yourself into a Fifty Shades Of Grey scenario. I can remember it like it was last year. I had just finished a shot of some warm, plastic bottle vodka and there I saw him leaning against a wall. Tall, dark, and redhead, just my type.
We made eye contact and I tried to be as cute as possible while hiding the fact that I had just thrown up in my mouth a little bit from lukewarm alcohol. He must’ve been drunker than I was because he walked over and we began talking. What the conversation was about I will never know — I was too distracted by his shoes, dark brown Chinos. Attractive, redheaded, and footwear other than Sperrys, I was sure I was talking to my future husband. Like all great college romances, our conversation ended with my girlfriend belligerently falling over the beer pong table and needing my assistance. I never got his name, but we exchanged numbers, and I was determined to see him again.
Back at the dorms, I told my roommate all about this mysterious red-headed Ryan Gosling. Looking back I realize that was too much of a compliment to give. She asked his name and I replied, “I dunno, some guy with cool shoes”. 1 a.m. rolled around and as I waited for my cup of noodles to cool off my phone buzzed. The stars aligned and red-headed Ryan Gosling texted me.
Just my luck, he also happened to be a freshman, which in my head meant a shorter walk of shame. He met me outside his dorm entrance and I had to play off the fact that I still had no idea what his name was. I got checked in and we rode the elevator up to the 9th and final floor. We walked past a group of his friends who were cheering him on in the common room because we all knew what and who was about to go down. Without even a first kiss, red-headed Ryan Gosling went straight to his dresser for a condom. Bold move, but I was into it. Apparently so were other girls because he was fresh out of willy wrappers. He apologized and went down the hall to get more.
Now I don’t condone snooping, but I was drunk, wanted to know a little more about the guy I was about to hook up with, and not to point fingers but he did leave his top dresser drawer wide open. Like any girl with a curious mind, I looked inside. And thank the lord I did.
I don’t know what caught my eye first, it was either the handcuffs or black leathered whip. This mini Christian Grey had it all: gags, a blindfold, wrist restraints and what I didn’t know went where. The level-headed girl I am, I immediately closed the drawer and before Ryan/Christian even got back to the room, I grabbed my keys walked out the door, past the group of friends who were no longer cheering and made my way down nine stories back to my dorm hall.
I had the beautiful yet stupid idea that I’d never see him again and thus wouldn’t have to explain my sudden disappearance. That belief was shattered about a week later when we both reached for a bagel in the dining hall, exchanging awkward glances and parting ways.
Moral of the story ladies: don’t judge a book by its cover, but by the contents of his underwear drawer..
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