Whiskey Dick…

April 2014. He couldn’t keep it up and could barely get it up. We were both so drunk. This was my first encounter with a new man as a newly single woman.

It had been two months since me and my almost husband parted ways. My cousins threw a huge group birthday celebration at Sukho Thai, a restaurant turned “nightclub” on Front Street, downtown. A nice, small and warm venue that smelled delicious. Bottle service and drinks were cheap. There were at least 20 of us in attendance, not including the various circles of friends we all decided to bring along. I was excited to be out with everyone, dancing, drunk and distracted.

Eventually my little brother Vic showed up with a bunch of his boys. I couldn’t believe my eyes when a blast from my flirtatious past walked in as part of the group. I hadn’t seen him in years. He and I met in high school, through Vic. We always had an attraction to each other, and flirted innocently; but in high school, I always had a boyfriend, actually, the same boyfriend from grade 9-13 (yes, Ontario had an optional grade 13 back in the 90’s).

He and I went on one date circa 2006, but it didn’t go anywhere because he said that he “respected his friendship” with my brother too much to continue seeing me. He even told me that Vic was supportive of it. What a wuss. I mean, what shit is this? Either be honest and say you’re not into me, or man the fuck up.

Anyway, as soon as I saw him walk in, I was so excited. That was it. My prey was locked in; he was what I wanted, and I was going to have him.

When he saw me, he came straight towards me and we hugged. Tight. He looked the same. Sexy.

I felt good, looked good and was tipsy at this point; focused on him. I kept asking Queen B and my other cousin, what I should do. They gave me very sound advice. They said I needed to be scarce, create mystery, keep him curious, make him come to me, make him want more. This was all theoretically sound, except my drunk ass decided to do the complete opposite. I circled him, made myself downright available to him on the dance floor and at the bar. The girls said that I was relentless. They stood by the bar shaking their heads in disappointment, but they were very entertained. They said I kept going to them for guidance and they would give me the same advice, but I didn’t fucking listen. I was a thirsty and hungry bitch that night and my drunken needs, desperation, aggression, primal instinct, or whatever it was, took over logic and common sense.

Whiskey was receptive. We danced together, eventually making out amidst all of the writhing bodies on the dance floor. Vic noticed the heavy flirtation and cock blocked at every possible moment. He would pull Whiskey away from me if we were kissing. He would take him to the bar and ply him with shots (insert understanding of nickname origin here. Hahaha). I couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t want me and his boy to flirt and have fun together. He might’ve told me but I was so inebriated, I either ignored what he said or it just didn’t register. Either way, I didn’t give a shit about what he was trying to do; I was going to have Whiskey no matter what, and nothing was getting in my way. 

Last call – everyone was drunk and Whiskey and I were ready to go. I told my cousins that I was leaving and who I was leaving with. No one was to breathe a word to Vic. And they never did.

When we got to his condo, I met his cute dog, I think he was a chocolate lab. I also found out that his girlfriend lives there too. She was just on vacation and would be returning the next day. Fucking awesome.

Ah well, this was the “point of no return”. I was so shitfaced, I didn’t care. We talked for a bit and eventually started getting busy on the couch while his dog watched. We got naked and I sat on him. To my utter disappointment, he could barely get it up, let alone stay up. We took turns trying to get him hard. I kept going down on him and then he would try jerking himself off and nothing worked. And to make matters even worse, every time he couldn’t get it up, he’d be jerking off, and at the same time say, “fucking Vic, he gave me whiskey dick”. Now regret set in. This was my karma for going home with an attached man. Vic probably told me at the bar that Whiskey has a girl and isn’t worth my time; and because I wouldn’t listen, he strategized by plying Whiskey with shots so that we couldn’t hook up. Fucking genius.

I was exhausted, my head spinning and my eyelids were heavy. After way too much fucking effort (pun intended), we ended up passing out in the bed he shared with his girl. Ugh. I was disgusted with myself and with him. We woke up at the crack of dawn because he was paranoid that his girlfriend would return home from her trip. I was still drunk when we woke up. He drove me home and I haven’t spoken with or seen him since. I really wish I didn’t leave my jewelry there. It’s glimmering in a garbage heap somewhere.

I phoned Queen B when I got home. I was dying to know what the hell happened, to fill in the “brown out” in my memory so that I had the full story. She explained what it was like to give me advice and then watch me do the complete opposite. They laughed at me while they were parked at the bar. It was like an animal kingdom documentary. I was the hunter in its habitat that zoned in on my prey and was going to do everything in my power to pounce on and devour him. She came up with the term “wolfing” to explain my behaviour. “Wofling” being a term to describe aggressive man-eating behaviour. See description below. I thought it was hilarious. This is now a regular term in our vocabulary.

After years of build up, the hook up with Whiskey was completely and literally anti-climactic.  

NOTE: Fast forward to 2018 – Vic told me that Whiskey married said girlfriend and I told him that Whiskey and I unsuccessfully hooked up; that he was the reason our night flopped (I love puns). We laughed and realized that we know far too much about each other’s sex lives.

Duration = Barely 1 night

Lesson(s) Learned:

1.    Find out if the person you are targeting has a significant other. Leave it alone if they do.

2.    It is not necessary to be the aggressive hunter all of the time. There isn’t anything wrong with going for what you want, but sometimes, it’s best left for the man to hunt you down. Drunken desperation isn’t fucking sexy.

3.   Alcohol is a hell of a drug. Drink wisely. 

New Term(s):

wolf·ing – wo͝olfING/ – Verb

1.      refers to a rapacious, ferocious, or voracious person actively hunting for a suitable partner with the intent of kissing, having sex with and/or exchanging phone numbers. Said person is usually under the influence of alcohol and/or recreational substances. This can occur in any setting (i.e. a bar, beach, nightclub, online, etc.)

brown out – gerund or present participle: browning out – Verb

1. refers to a when you drink so much that everything goes brown. It’s not as severe as a blackout, because you remember bits and pieces.
2. Origin – It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Season 6. Episode 7. “Who Got Dee Pregnant?”