Your Valentine's Day Flops

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Your Valentine's Day Flops
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Happy Valentine’s Day! If you’re single, taken, or somewhere between, I hope you have a fun weekend filled with immediately discounted wine and chocolate. Some people treat the holiday as holy, others don’t really give a shit. I, for one, care enough to inquire about your past Valentine’s Day flops. What went wrong? Bonus points, as always, will be awarded if your misery is also kind of funny and/or mortifying. Drop those in the comments below.

And now, for last week’s winners: here are my favorite stories about the time Jezebel readers went on vacation solely to bone:

tsnotaboutthepasta, you win, if only for having a middle school crush who somehow maintained his hotness throughout adulthood:

One month before I graduated from college, my boyfriend and I broke up – we were planning our wedding, he was planning to propose as soon as I got back from my family trip to Europe (a grad present for me and my bro who was graduating HS) – but all of a sudden we discovered a mutual dealbreaker and tearfully went our separate ways. I spent that entire summer very sad, but while in an internet cafe in Spain I reconnected on FB with a guy I’d had a major crush on when I was in middle school. My locker had been literally underneath his and he had not remembered me at all, but the flirty banter ~10 years later helped me get over my heartbreak and gave me a confidence boost.
A couple months – and dozens of flirty but not explicit texts – later, I took a Friday off from my temp job to drive 6 hours across state lines to stay with this guy for the weekend. Turns out he lived in a dry county (whyyyyyy) but had stocked up for the weekend, so we got wasted on bourbon and watched bad movies and he spanked my ass raw and it was exactly what I needed.
We met up one more time at a fancy tourist trap halfway between our respective towns, then he all of a sudden got engaged to someone who didn’t allow him to be friends with anyone he’d even flirted with, so that was that. But I’ll always remember the smug victory of finally hooking up with my middle school crush.

LivresDeMabeuf, this is the only good argument for marriage I have ever heard:

Shortly after we started dating, my husband and I went to the FL Keys, partly to see how well we got along when traveling together, but yeah, mainly to bone. It was…not the best trip I have ever been on. We ran out of condoms during the middle of the most colossal storm, so he decided it was IMPERATIVE that he dash out for more. And by “dash out” I mean “ran down the road for several blocks to a convenience store where he bought their entire stock, then ran back.” I have never seen anyone so soaked, bedraggled, panting, proud of himself, and ready to bone.

kitschkat, this is arousing:

A bittersweet story: I was very in love with this girl with whom I just could not make it work, because we also hated each other. We fought all the time, I didn’t respect her or trust her… But I also thought about her constantly and desperately wanted to please her, and unfortunately, she felt the same way. We lived in different parts of the country and could only meet up to fuck and fight every few months, which was probably for the best.
When I finally made the decision to leave the country entirely, we agreed to meet up one final time, on a vacation I had already planned solo. We had “broken up” by then, and I think in my head I had even convinced myself this trip was going to be an attempt to be “friends”. We hadn’t seen each other in three months, and had barely even spoken in that time. I checked into the airbnb, and waited – and waited. She arrived hours late, we awkwardly said hello or whatever… and immediately started making out. We were sitting on the bed, entwined, and while fully dressed and without even being touched she came. As a woman, I didn’t even know that was possible! (She was wearing jeans – maybe the friction?)
Anyway, we spent three days having mind-blowing sex, and then she got angry at me because we didn’t get around to seeing any sights and we parted on bad terms. The end.

Wesley, I wasn’t expecting this but I appreciate your dedication to trying to vacation bone:

I flew to Glasgow from Southern California after an early in life divorce. I got arrested in customs for being a woefully ill prepared traveler and almost got myself and the woman I was coming to see deported back to the United States.
That kind of story?

jujujuju, hell yeah:

I met a guy that lives in Baltimore through an app. One flirty text, one flirty call and we were eventually communicating non-stop. Things went from “if we ever meet” to “when are you booking a flight?” So I booked a flight from CA to Baltimore. I knew we were going to have sex as soon as we arrived at his place, so I decided to freshen up in the airport bathroom.
Had a toothbrush, change of clothes, wipes everything ready. I found a big stall with a sink and started getting ready. I had my back to the door the entire time so it was only after I was naked from the waist down, toothbrush in my mouth that I realized the door was wide open and the women walking in could see it all. I looked up and met eyes with a woman who looked mortified. I quickly finished, walked out with some weird looks my way and met my ride. Long story short, we had sex, it was amazing and I went back a month later to see him again. Except this time I made sure to close the bathroom door.

Get floppy in the comments below.

 
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