Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Not that there's anything wrong with that

I slept with a man for the first time in a long time Friday night.

Actually I can't remember the last time I shared a bed with a dude. I'm sure it's happened before (hell, college was a crazy time for all of us, right?) I just can't remember when it was.

But you know what, maybe it was all the alcohol from Rusty's Last Chance or the extremely late hour (or should I say early hour), but it really was not all that awkward.

And really when you think abut it, why should it be awkward. We were just sharing a bed. We were in a circumstance where there were four regular heterosexual guys sharing two queen-size beds in a hotel room.

It was part of our annual guys getaway weekend in Manhattan. Every year, we get the gang together, leave the wives at home, drive to Manhattan and get sloppy drunk in Aggieville then get up a few hours later and tailgate at a K-State football game (the Cats lost to Louisville in case you missed the sports page).

Still, its rare when you sleep with two different guys in a weekend, so the situation was good fodder for good natured ribbing among the eight of us. The common theme of jokes followed the line from The 40 Year Old Virgin: "Hey Jeff, know how I know you're gay? Because you slept with two guys this weekend."

Ah, good times. Luckily we've all pretty much come to grips (heh) with our latent homosexuality.

Actually, the worst part of the weekend was the loud-freakin' snoring by the guys I slept with. They tried to blame it on me, but I have irrefutable video proof that I was not the snorer:

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