The Weekly Mindfuck: Sex Injuries

I usually reserve this space for moments of reflection and introspection - because hey, sex can be smart too! - but I have a hilarious story for you guys today instead. And yes - it involves an empty bathtub. (Picture above, obviously not me.) 

Recently, I went to a party with my boyfriend Hugh. (You guys remember Hugh, right?) At said party, most guests were using a bathroom located near the kitchen, because this makes a lot of practical sense. While we were waiting in line, someone said, "Hey! You know there's another bathroom down the hall, right?" and before we could scurry away to a bathroom that didn't have eight people and their Solo cups waiting in line, one of the Apartment Renters said it wasn't accessible through the main door and that you could only sneak in through a flimsy sliding door in the back of another room. Enter: One couple, four gleaming eyes.  

So yes, we went to have sex in the bathroom, a favorite activity of ours that was made much more difficult because A) Anyone could sneak in through said flimsy door since it doesn't have a lock and B) We were very, very drunk. Somehow, we ended up going at it in the bathtub, one pant leg on each, until it was time to switch it up (i.e. - move to the bathroom counter). I tried to sit up to make my move, and...I smacked my head into the faucet, sustaining a large gash across my forehead. It was, quite obviously, very visible to all party-goers after we emerged. 

Luckily, no one said anything. Aforementioned Apartment Renter took one look at my forehead, laughed, shook his head, and poured himself another beer.