I recently woke to find a Canadian in my bed.
I’d met him the night previous, his name was Gus, and he was in town for some Ironman or something or other, and he was delighted to come home with me. After some rolling around, I went to the bathroom to freshen up, I washed my face just as mama always told me to do, and I brushed my teeth. But there’s a problem with brushing your teeth when you have a stranger you met at a bar in your bed.When you get back to bed, and Gus wants to kiss? No, thanks. I mean, his mouth tasted like Jim Beam and porter, and I think a few cigarettes. Oh, yeah, and we’d split an order of onion rings. Yikes.
Sorry, I digress.
The point of this story is the following morning. I woke up and looked over at him and all I wanted was for him to go the fuck away. It was a Tuesday, for shit’s sake. I had to work, I had an early morning appointment.
I wasn’t sure how to get rid of him, and looking back, I don’t think I picked the most graceful method. I got up without the morning snuggle he seemed to be leaning in for, I let out my cat, and I plopped myself down at my desk and started IMing my girlfriend, who was already at work.
(bing)
Jesus, I have some Canadian guy here, how do I get rid of him?
(bing)
Canadian? Is he hot?
(bing)
He’s OK. Beside the point. I want him gone. What do I do?
(bing)
What’s his name?
(bing)
Um, Gus, I think?
(bing)
Did he go down on you?
(bing)
Focus, dammit! How do I get rid of him? And yes, he did.
Of course, the sound of clacking and binging in the living room was all the cue he needed. He came out of my room dressed, asked directions back to his hotel, thanked me for the good time and got out of there.
So I was wondering, DIW folks. What do you do to get a one-night-stand to leave in the morning?
