I don't expect her to agree to go. However, my roomates feel that there is a chance because she's really nice and a little bit eccentric. I call her up and she agrees to go and even adds that she's "looking forward to it".
Flash forward to one hour prior to date pickup. I'm a frosh and all of the upper classmen have seen dogbook pictures of my date Jennifer. They're acting like true friends by telling me that there's no way I can handle a girl like that sober and I need to loosen up a bit. Many shots are had.
I bring Jennifer back and we have a great time. I am buzzing but just enough to be casual and funny though not enough to puke on her. As the night goes on, we retire to one of the six man suites to take a break. For some reason, I'm a dancing machine when I'm drunk.
Everyone around us is making out like crazy. Jennifer says to me, "What do you think about going back to your room?" Like a puppy dog, I say "OK!" and take her hand, leading her back to my room. I'm so drunk that I have no clue what this means.
My bastard roomate (who will burn in hades for being in there with his girlfriend) had the door locked. I try the door and report to Jennifer that the door is locked.
She suggests that we keep going until we find another room that is open. I look at her and say, "Nah, why don't we just go back to the dance." She is bewildered, but agrees.
It was one of those moments where you wake up the next day and it hits you, "I did NOT do that...did I?" All the next day the Srs and Jrs kept taunting me about how the girl was hanging on me. Almost 20 years later my roomates will still ask me if I'd rather be dancing.