All my girls and I make no qualms about getting drunk and hooking up

I have my share of stories about hooking up, believe me, but I learned the hard way that it doesn't pay. I had my own real life version of Chasing Amy, only no lesbians.

All my girls and I make no qualms about getting drunk and hooking up. We were 21 at the time, and didn't really care about much else. It was a very accepted way of life until...

This girl I worked with, Lauren, wanted to go to the Flats on a Saturday night. I grew up in a suburb of Cleveland, so I knew the bars in the Flats very well, and agreed to join her. After all, it was a bit of a change from the Kent bars.

Since she wasn't 21, we had to go to a bar that allowed 18 and older. Just having turned 21, I was less than thrilled to be going to "college ID night at the Beach Club," but I went anyway.

As soon as we walked in, I regretted my decision. Apparently, there was an AC/DC concert in town that night, so every long-haired 1987 throwback was in the bar. It was packed, the music was bad, and there was not a decent looking guy in the place. Lauren and I were disappointed, but decided to have a few drinks and make the most of it.

We were dancing for a little while, and these 2 little geeks who didn't look a day older than 16 were trying to dance with us. Lauren and I kept dancing and trying to ignore them--no luck. I looked up and happened to lock eyes with this beautiful guy. I looked away (playing coy, of course) and looked back a second later-he was still looking at me. Lauren leaned over and screamed in my ear, "That guy is checking you out big time!" I was trying to get him to come over to talk, but the 2 geeks were still dancing with us, and couldn't catch a hint. So I grabbed Lauren's hand and dragged her over to another part of the dance floor, still in plain view of this gorgeous guy.

With the geeks out of the picture, he walked right over and started dancing and talking to us. His name was Ross and he told me he was in for the AC/DC concert (ok, so he had no musical taste, but I could work with that). We talked 1/2 the night, he and his friends loaded Lauren and me up with beer, and all was good with the world.

Close to the end of the night, a photographer came over and offered to take a Polaroid of us. (This and selling flowers is a big thing in the Flats...I can't stand it.) Ross's friends offered to pay for the picture, so we all posed, and when it was all done, they gave it to me. Ross asked for my number, and I gave it to him, only to find out when he gave me his number that he was from Cincinnati, five hours away! Figures.

So we parted ways with a kiss that sent tingles down to my toes, and Lauren and I drove home-me on cloud 9.

Ross called me a few days later, and for a few months we talked nearly every day. We totally clicked in every way. He went to the University of Cincinnati, but other than that, we had so much in common.

My friend lived about 1/2 hour away from him, so I decided to drive down and stay with her and visit him. On the trip down, I got a flat tire, and had to get towed home. I should have known then that it was a sign of the disastrous things to come.

We tried to work out a weekend to visit and, in the mean time, we continued to talk, write letters, exchange pictures...I was in heaven.

Then one day, 5 days before I was to finally go see him, I was telling him a story about my friend who had hooked up with a guy the night before, and I was laughing how she had called me to come get her in the morning, and had no idea where she was. Ross didn't find this so humorous. Then came the fatal question, "So, do you hook up like that?"

I should have been smart enough to avoid the conversation and change the subject, but I had recently been in a relationship where the guy wasn't honest with me about anything, and I found out a little too late. So I told him the truth. "Well, I am not as bad as my friends, but I have made my share of mistakes in this field."

The other end of the line got very quiet. I rushed to reassure him. "But nothing since long before I met you." Ok, maybe THAT part wasn't entirely true. I did hook up with some guy the night before I met him.

He started asking about numbers, and I told him the guys I thought mattered, (drunk hook-ups don't count when you don't want them to) which were still too many for his taste. Good thing I never told him the REAL numbers! He got very upset, and I got defensive. "Don't tell me you have NEVER had a one night stand!" He answered, "Well, yeah, but not that many...not like you!"

I was crushed. Ross told me he needed a few days to think about this and let it sink in, because it really bothered him. I hung up the phone vowing to give him his space, but not to lose him.

He called the next day and said he was ok with it, and it didn't matter anyway. I was happy as can be, and still planned on seeing him that weekend. Well, he was going to a party that night with his friend, and his friend walked in while we were still on the phone and made a joke about me dating all of Kent. I said "You are so wrong! You mean North-eastern Ohio!"

Ross flipped out, hung up on me and never talked to me again. I thought about going down to Cincinnati that weekend and seeing what happened, but I was too ashamed.

It was horrible that he let something like that get in the way of a potentially great relationship. I really, really liked him too. It is several years later, but I think of him all the time.

I did learn one lesson out of this whole thing. Ladies, no matter who you are, what you have done, how many people you have had sex with, the magic number you always tell those boys is "3."