Everyone has at least one morning after story. And I’m not saying these are mine, but please don’t show this to my mum. Thanks also to some ~anonymous~ friends for their stories and input into some of these classics. 

*Names have been changed because these are definitely not based on true events.

The Random Festival Trudge 
You’ve woken up in a tent next to a guy who you picked up at 10:53pm the night before who was chewing his mouth off at the side of the amphitheatre stage. Both of your contacts have fallen out, there’s glitter in your butthole and your phone is dead. This is fight or flight. You have to make the choice to A) brave his friendship group who are already 8 beers deep or B) make a feeble run for it. Either way you end up trudging back to your tent with your bra stuffed in your pocket, keeping your head down as you pass Cartia Mallan mid photoshoot on the road at 11am. These never end well, but are great stories for the girls back at the campsite to boost morale.

The One That Makes You Watch a Weirdly Large Amount of TV Before You Can Politely Leave
You’re about to make a dignified exit, when he opens his laptop and insists on showing you ‘something good real quick’. Honestly, it could be anything (his branded T-shirt business, Tame Impala’s latest album, etc. etc.) but the last thing you’re expecting is The Hunger Games: Catching Fire. You’re both still naked, but he’s pressed play without any warning and apparently this is happening. You lay there stiff as a board for the entire two hours and 26 minutes, despite desperately needing a shit. Halfway through his roommate comes in and is now watching it with you both in the same bed. If you couldn’t decide if this guy was a dickhead or not before, you certainly can’t now. If you’re going to make me endure a trilogy, at least let’s go in order. What happened to common courtesy in the modern dating world? 

The All Day Special
Somehow you’ve convinced this person to hang around with you for the entire day after. It’s rare, and you will either find it going extremely well or extremely horribly, with absolutely no in-between. If you think it went well, you will never hear from them again. If you think it went badly, they will not leave you alone until you are forced to block them. 

The One That Lingers
You’ve gone the extra mile by inviting them back to your own space, briefly forgetting about the five other girls/your mum/your brother and his friends that will inevitably be dragged unwillingly into the scenario you’ve just created. Now in a perfect world, this boy would emerge at approximately 9:15am, compliment your book collection, enjoy a brief but humorous conversation with the girls over scrambled eggs, then leave. But alas, something (or someone) has given this boy the idea that he is an All Day Special. He has cleared his calendar for you and he will not be leaving your side. You do things like rush around and pretend to get ready, and make exaggerated sighs before stating that “the traffic along Coronation Drive is going to be a nightmare”. He rolls over and goes back to sleep, so you and the girls pretend it’s Mia’s* birthday and start singing happy birthday to wake him, and throw in a fire alarm on the side by burning some toast. He’s happy to sleep through it all, so you give up and leave the house. When you return three hours later, he’s in the same spot you left him. 

The I Have to Get Up at 6am and Go To the Gym
Nothing screams ~I don’t like you~ quite like “sorry, can you be gone by 6am? I have to hit the gym” even though it’s a Sunday morning. I was once extremely offended by a boy doing this but later found he had been sharpening the tip of a broomstick over time to use as a weapon to kill a possum. Not a lot of love was lost there. In all seriousness I hope Alex* is doing okay. Last I heard he was kicked off the varsity water polo team for his anger management issues. 

The One You Don’t Remember
How did you wake up forty minutes south of the river and where is the nearest train station? There’s no point in going into further detail for this boy as the only evidence you have of the night before is a smudged Retro’s stamp and an empty condom packet — at least you were safe.

The One That Makes You Run Away From His Parents
It’s 7am and you’ve just been woken up with a roaring hangover and a blunt warning from Nathan* that his mum likes to go for early morning runs and she will “almost definitely” be making an appearance in the next twenty-five minutes. You’re staying in his ‘cottage’, which is private-school-boy terminology for the small mansion that sits behind his parent’s giant mansion in the middle of their 4,000 m² acreage. Nathan* likes to think of it as a Geordie Shore-esque Shag Pad, but it mostly serves to store his mum’s old Tupperware and an abandoned home gym. Minutes later, after receiving a mere grunt in response to your goodbye, you find yourself squatting in a bush behind the mailbox waiting for an Uber. When he arrives (a middle-aged Aussie Dad named Kev who is making you feel safer than Nathan* did for the past 4 hours) and asks you what you’re doing at 7:42am in Samford Valley on a Sunday: you say you’re just visiting your boyfriend. 

The One That Actually Has Work in the Morning But Lets You Stay in his Fancy Apartment All Day and Use His Nice Products
“Did you try my Aesop shampoo?” he texts you at 10AM, “Also, there’s bagels and cream cheese in the fridge, treat yourself x.” He doesn’t get home ‘til 6PM, so you spend the day lounging around in his cashmere sweaters (it’s 40 degrees out, but you know he can afford to have every A/C unit in the flat on overdrive) and looking through his medicine cabinets. This is nice. This could be your life. This is… Valium? You pop one of those sweet babies, take a soak in the tub, and drift into a coma of weekends at his parents’ vineyard and dinner parties with his wealthy white collar friends. For personal reasons I will be passing away once JobKeeper is over. 

Everything comes to a grinding halt when you’re emptying the contents of your bowels (never pretty after pretending you don’t poop or fart for the past 15 hours) into his porcelain throne (guys, it literally has a bidet and can probably make espressos). You reach for the flush and–nothing. Panic struck, you search for a plunger, a toilet brush, a fucking pooper-scooper–anything to reverse the hell you’ve just unleashed in his Bulimba townhouse. It was nice while it lasted, you think. 
P.S. This literally only happens to the gays.

In Conclusion,
Ladies, I hope this hasn’t given you too many war flashbacks. Remember, for every I Have to Get Up at 6am and Go To the Gym there is an All Day Special (who you won’t have to block). So keep your head up, keep hustling, keep making moves, keep falling in love.

Image: Analisa Palomera & Dalana Caldwell, Pinterest. 

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