Eyes Wide Open

There comes a time in every walk home when the front door is reached and the inevitable goodnight kiss commences. You thank the guy who just walked you home, and from there it's like clockwork. His hand finds its way to the small of your back, you look up (or if you're me, you look directly level) at him and your faces close in on each other. The kiss starts out soft, but then the world begins to whirl around your bodies. If you're sober, this the whirling of your emotions, indicating that you really like this guy. If you're not, this is the churning of your stomach, indicating that you took one to many shots. While the sober girl doesn't invite the man who walked her home inside because she wants to take things slow, the not-sober girl doesn't invite the man who walked her home inside because he's bound to get a mouthful of nastiness before she will.
The other night I went to a party within walking distance from my house and continued to get obliterated in bliss knowing that I didn't have to worry about finding a ride home. Hours later into the early morning people began clearing out and I suddenly grew less confident about walking home alone. I slurred out a plea for company and in response a guy friend of mine offered to walk me home. While I found this to be a nice, wholesome gesture, I didn't take into consideration that when you're wearing a spandex dress, you have no guy friends. We walked the two blocks to my house and once we reached the front door, it was like drunken clockwork. His hand had found my lower back (and by "lower back" I mean my ass), our faces closed in on each others, and we began slobering at each others faces like dogs. The world began to whirl around me as it suddenly hit me, if my eyes are closed any longer, I'm going to throw up in this guys mouth.
I'd been hit hard with the spins, so I opened my eyes, but even that didn't help. I needed to focus my vision on something. As if it'd been a BBM from God, I instantaneously felt the vibrate of my phone, so I stealthily pulled my blackberry out of my pocket and began reading my messages over his shoulder while we made out. He didn't realize for a good minute and a half until I started responding to my texts.
"What are you doing?" he pulled away.
"What? Oh!" I opened my eyes as wide as humanly possible and stared at my phone, as if I, too, was surprised it was in my hand. "I was just, uh, checking the time."
"How about we go inside?" I didn't know how I would keep my vision focused on my phone now that I apparently was up-to-date on what time it was. I also didn't know how to tell him that the only thing that would be getting it in tonight would be my toilet bowl.
"My parents are asleep," as if that's stopped me before.
"Bummer, well goodnight. We'll hang another time." He kissed me goodnight.
"Yeah, definitely," I watched him walk down my driveway, then I held up my hand with my phone still in it and slurred out "text me!"