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"  Nina has been on my case about &amp;quot;putting myself out there,&amp;quot; for the last week, so I reluctantly agreed to go with her to a party one of her classmates was having on Saturday night. &amp;quot;Wear nice underwear,&amp;quot; she text-warned me about an hour beforehand.  &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m not hooking up with anyone,&amp;quot; I text-protested back.  &amp;quot;Just trust me on this,&amp;quot; she replied.  In a fit of post-adolescent rebellion I wore a thong so old it may have been the first one I ever bought, faded from black to grey, with so many holes it looks like it&amp;#039;s made out of lace even though it&amp;#039;s pure cotton. I really, really didn&amp;#039;t want to hook up with anyone, and I knew wearing my grossest underwear would be a solid deterrent in case I had one too many and felt tempted by some handsome stranger.  Nina met me outside of my apartment at nine and we hailed a cab. &amp;quot;95th and first,&amp;quot; she told the driver. Then she turned her attention to me. &amp;quot;You need at least another pound of eyeliner,&amp;quot; she said.  &amp;quot;Ugh, Nina, I came. Isn&amp;#039;t that enough?&amp;quot; I&amp;#039;d put minimal effort into getting ready. I didn&amp;#039;t even try and fix the big dent in the back of my hair that my straightener always gives me.  &amp;quot;Nope.&amp;quot; She pulled an eyeliner out of her purse and came at me like a stage mom on Toddlers and Tiaras.  By the time we arrived, I had a wing tip and a berry stained lip. We climbed out of the cab and hauled it up the four flights of stairs to Nina&amp;#039;s friend&amp;#039;s apartment. Nina knocked and some girl who was really pulling off the thick bang look opened up the door.  &amp;quot;Niniii!&amp;quot; she cried, and flung her arms around Nina&amp;#039;s shoulders. Nini?  &amp;quot;Josie, this is Kim,&amp;quot; Nina said.  &amp;quot;So nice to meet you!&amp;quot; Kim gave me a hug too, which I stiffly returned. I&amp;#039;m not a hugger. &amp;quot;Keys go here,&amp;quot; Kim said, pointing to a plastic bowl that was filled with different sets of keys.  &amp;quot;Um,&amp;quot; I laughed, nervously, &amp;quot;Is this like a swinger&amp;#039;s thing?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Why does everyone keep asking that?&amp;quot; Kim asked.  &amp;quot;Because this is something swingers do, smarty pants,&amp;quot; Nina said.  Kim held up her hands. &amp;quot;I don&amp;#039;t know anything about swingers. This is just how the Internet says to throw a handcuff party.&amp;quot;  Handcuff party? I gave Nina a death stare, which she returned with a big smile. &amp;quot;I told you to wear nice underwear\u2026you never know who you&amp;#039;re going to have to pee in front of!&amp;quot;  For those of you who aren&amp;#039;t familiar with the concept of a handcuff party, this is how it works: A guy and a girl, who preferably don&amp;#039;t know each other, are handcuffed to each other for the duration of the party. I&amp;#039;d played in college, but since I went to a small school where everyone knew everyone, you were inevitably handcuffed to someone you knew, therefore avoiding the awkwardness a handcuff party was notorious for.  &amp;quot;I hate you,&amp;quot; I said to Nina as I dropped my keys in the pile.  Nina bumped her hip against mine. &amp;quot;I love you too.&amp;quot;  When it came time to pair up, Nina ended up with some skinny hipster. He was exactly her type and I could tell she was over the moon. A few minutes later, Kim pulled my keys out of the pile, and I crossed my fingers as she dug around in the bowl, looking for my partner. Finally, she held up a pair of keys.  &amp;quot;That&amp;#039;s me,&amp;quot; came a voice from the corner of the room. My partner looked like a former football player whose beer habit was starting to catch up with him now that he wasn&amp;#039;t exercising for three hours a day. He wasn&amp;#039;t fat by any means\u2026just tall, big, and a little soft. He had strong, handsome face and hair that was parted neatly to one side. There was something about him that was vaguely familiar, but I just couldn&amp;#039;t put my finger on it. As Kim handcuffed my left wrist to his right, I realized he was at least a full foot taller than me.  &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m Kevin,&amp;quot; he said.  &amp;quot;Josie.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Nice to meet you, Josie. I hope you are as happy to be handcuffed to me as I am to you.&amp;quot; He grinned. Aw, that was kind of sweet.  Kim handed us a six-pack of beer (you had to finish it in order to be freed from the cuffs). &amp;quot;This is like breakfast for me,&amp;quot; Kevin said.  &amp;quot;Pace yourself,&amp;quot; Kim said.  Kevin and I found a spot on the couch and cracked open a beer. I found out he was 28, from Virginia, and was a former lacrosse player.  &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;d guessed football,&amp;quot; I told him.  &amp;quot;Everyone does,&amp;quot; he said. He finished the first beer and opened a second. &amp;quot;So where&amp;#039;s your boyfriend tonight?&amp;quot; he asked.  &amp;quot;Really?&amp;quot; I asked.  Kevin looked at me. &amp;quot;What?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I just hate when guys use that line to find out if you&amp;#039;re single.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Oh, I was just asking so you would then ask about me, and I could break it to you that I have a girlfriend. I wouldn&amp;#039;t want you to hit on me later and get all embarrassed when I turn you down.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Oh, sorry,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;Well, where is your girlfriend?&amp;quot;  Kevin grinned. &amp;quot;That was a joke. I don&amp;#039;t have a girlfriend.&amp;quot;  I smacked my forehead with my palm, which caused Kevin&amp;#039;s hand to jerk, spilling his full beer all over my lap. &amp;quot;Oh. My. God.&amp;quot; I closed my eyes.  &amp;quot;Okay, on three, we get up and get paper towels.&amp;quot; Kevin counted down, and we stood in unison, maneuvering our way around other cuffed couples. I noticed Nina on a couch in the corner, curled up in her partner&amp;#039;s lap, probably talking in her sexy-voice.  I cleaned up as best I could with my limited mobility. Kevin offered to help but since most of the damage had occurred in my crotchal region, I politely declined.  &amp;quot;I think I&amp;#039;m going to ask Kim if she&amp;#039;ll make an exception to the rule,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m soaked.&amp;quot;  Kevin nodded. &amp;quot;And if she doesn&amp;#039;t, I can crush the rest of those beers in half an hour.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Wow, I am so turned on right now,&amp;quot; I said, and Kevin laughed.  Thankfully, Kim took pity on me and my wet lap and set me free\u2014but not before Kevin insisted on getting my number so he could &amp;quot;make it up to me.&amp;quot; I gave it to him even though I wasn&amp;#039;t sure if I was feeling him. He was cute, and he seemed nice, but he was a little meathead-y for my liking. I figured it wouldn&amp;#039;t kill me to go on one date with him.  I found Nina\u2014who was now fully making out with her skinny hipster partner\u2014and told her I was leaving.  &amp;quot;You did that on purpose so you could leave early,&amp;quot; she said.  &amp;quot;Yes, my master plan was to aim for my lap so it looks like I pissed myself.&amp;quot; I gave her a kiss on the cheek. &amp;quot;Have fun.&amp;quot;  Downstairs, I held one arm across my lap and hailed a cab with another. I crawled in and gave the driver my address. Even though the night ended with me looking like the pants-wetter from Billy Madison, it wasn&amp;#039;t a total bust. I&amp;#039;d put myself out there and met a cute new guy. And every cute new guy I met brought me one step closer to forgetting about Justin. Want more from Josie? Follow her on Twitter @BedroomBlog "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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