"We were going out of town for the weekend and a friend asked if he could stay at our house, since he lived with his parents in the country and it saved tremendously on the commute to his job, plus that way he could actually go to a party and drink with the option of taking a cab ride home that didn't cost close to a hundred bucks. I jokingly said, "Just as long as you don't nail a one night stand in my bed." and he waved it off since he didn't have much luck with the ladies, plus he planned on sleeping on the couch anyway.

From what I could tell when I came home afterward, there was a fermenting/rotting glass of our best liquor stash in my bedroom. He was thoughtful enough to not want to leave a water ring on our St. Vinnie's dresser, so he used a white silk shirt from my drawer as a coaster for their red whatever drink he had concocted.

 Then, judging by the state of my bedsheets, which he had not bothered to change, he and his lady friend slaughtered a chicken together in bed. When I brought up these facts, he basically acted like I was a b#tch for not being happy that he got laid."