Why Adult Sleepovers Suck - An Essay

Just in case you were wondering why I decided to name this post as an essay, it's because I don't want the New Yorker calling me in a tizzy saying, "WE LOVE YOUR ARTICLE ON ADULT SLEEPOVERS. THINK UP A TITLE NOW!" and I, in a state of temporary panic and euphoria, will be too beside myself to think of a brilliant name like the one I wrote above. Let us get to the "meat" of this essay.

Adult sleepovers suck. By adult sleepovers, I mean lingering around in bed after you and your sexual partner have had an invigorating 20 minutes of love-making and now you two are spent. It's human instinct  to fall asleep in the arms of your lover. Do not, I repeat, do not, do this.

First off, if you are in the bed of another person with whom you are pretty much unfamiliar, there is a 98% chance that you were drunk when you decided to undertake this conquest. If you are the remaining sober 2% who decided to do this then.......I just feel bad for you? I don't know what to say. Chances are, you will awaken with you on the polar opposite side of the bed than your conquest, with his back facing towards you, which I don't know if this is right, but if I remember correctly, signals a primal instinct to curl up in the fetal position to shield ourselves from fear. Awkward. Secondly, you probably look like ass. If you are like me, you wake up looking like one of the characters from the beloved series The Boxcar Children, because indeed, it fucking looks like you slept in some abandoned cargo freight. Your mouth is sticky like you just ate wads of cotton candy at Coney Island and somehow, in the span of 8 hours, your hair has gone from shiny and beautiful to looking like sweaty recess hair. You look over at the male specimen lying 6 feet away from you and realize that he kind of has the physique of the Pillsbury Dough Boy and is that....a DiGiorno "Pizza and Wyngz" box lying next to your bra...? Shit.

All of this could have been easily avoided if you had avoided the adult sleepover. I don't even like that name anyways - I'm using it because Kristen Wiig used it in "Bridesmaids" and it's the only word combo that abridges the "I drunkenly slept over and boned someone, who in the morning looks like the current Mel Gibson" kind of situation I describe. Adult sleepover reminds me of adult diapers or adult education, both of which are too unsavory to talk about on this worldly blog.