CAN I GET a MAN WITH THAT?

FLUSHED AWAY

Today’s contributor missed an important lessons in potty training

The other day I was at work and I really had to pee. However, I was dealing with a very stubborn client, so I had to hold it in for over 30 minutes! When I finally got a chance to use the  bathroom I was in a huge hurry.  When I started to pee, I realized I pulled down my skirt, but I had forgotten to pull down my thong! I was completely soaked.

I didn’t know what to do, so I just flushed my new juicy couture underwear down the toilet and went back to work, as if nothing had happened. Later, one of my really cute co-workers that I had been flirting with recently went to use the bathroom and came out complaining about how the toilet was overflowing because there was a  flushed thong!

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THE WORKOUT PLAN

Today’s contributor joins a gym to gain a crush, but ends up the biggest loser             

I joined a local gym this year after my friend told me about this really hot trainer. About a week after admiring him from the elliptical, I decided I wanted to get a little closer. So, I signed up for private sessions with him and, in the mean time, obsessed over his perfect body with my girlfriends.

This guy was the definition of perfection — those abs, that body, that face! He was a work of art that needed to be captured, so I snapped a picture of him leaving the gym and sent it to my friends. I also set it as my iPhone wallpaper, just for fun. Well, one day we were having a really intense workout and he told me to take a break and drink some water. I did — and I left my phone right near him!

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PISS AND TELL

A weak bladder interferes with a romantic encounter

Senior year of college, I worked for the university’s in-house catering company, which meant lots of long hours standing on my feet. By the end of a 10-hour shift, I was exhausted and just wanted to go home. In fact, so exhausted that I ignored the tingling sensation that signaled I had to pee.

En route to the bus stop, I realized my bladder wasn’t going to make it the 8 minutes it would take to reach my off-campus apartment, or the 2 minutes it would take to sprint back to my job. I ran to the nearest building in a panic, but it was Sunday—the doors were locked—so I made a mad dash for the bushes a few yards away. Unfortunately, I came up short. By that I mean, literally 10 steps to the huge flower pot in front of the building, where I plopped down and released—just as soon as my crush pulled up offering me a ride!

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THIS LITTLE PIGGY CRIED WEE, WEE!

A bizarre foot fetish comes in handy when a gym romance maxes out

In college, I had a huge crush on a gym rat. When we first met, I lied about needing a trainer to fit into a homecoming dress. He obliged and 3 nights a week, he was hot, sweaty and all mine. Between his ripped abs and my raging hormones, I could hardly focus on our workouts, let alone tell him how I felt. Besides, I was too busy concealing orgasms during cardio.

Soon after, I discovered (and started obsessing over) his bizarre foot fetish. He said he’d rather date a girl who was out of shape, than a girl with ugly feet (odd for a guy who hits the gym 7 days a week). Nonetheless, I was so self-conscious about ruining my chances that I wore tube socks to every single workout!

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BLAME IT ON THE ALCOHOL

Today’s contributor learns why they call it ‘truth juice’

Like most twenty-somethings, I enjoy social drinking. It allows me to let my hair down and free my inhibitions. For the most part, this is fine, fun even — until the night I found myself a little too drunk and uninhibited in the company of a crush.

I was headed to New York for grad school and threw myself a going away party. Over 50 people attended, including my crush — who also happened to be a good friend. I was never quite sure if he placed me in the friend zone, but secretly, I had it bad for him. Either way, I had no intentions of telling him how I really felt. Little did I know, I was about to deliver one hell of a confession.

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HANDLE WITH CARE

An eager virgin is disappointed when her fantasy turns out to be a bust

In high school, I had a huge crush on my best friend’s older brother. The obvious benefit was seeing him every time I stopped by the house — like the night he discreetly grazed his hand on my leg, while the three of us watched a movie. I was a virgin at the time, but definitely knew how to read body language.

“You should come over tomorrow while my sister is at softball practice,” he whispered as my best friend left the room. I could hardly contain my excitement. We agreed not to tell a soul to avoid any awkwardness between us. I knew I was about to lose my virginity.

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