It was freshman year. It was a Friday night at the beginning of the year, so folks were implementing their lessons from Dis-Orientation with gusto. I'm already in bed because I have to get up for a job interview in the morning.
There's a knock at the door. I open it, and it's a girl I had met at the graffitti dance, utterly plastered. She basically pushes her way in and starts complaining about not being able to find her roommate. As I am clad only in boxers, I go back to the bed for some extra coverage. The girl (yes, she was hot) proceeds to climb into bed with me. Since she can't find her roommate, she "will have to come up with something better to do."
Being uncomfortable with a hopelessly drunk girl doing this, I got up and just went to sit at my desk. As drunk girl continued to writhe on my bed, there is another knock. It's the roommate, wanting to know if I've seen drunk girl. I pointed to the bed. Roommate is apparently disgusted at first, but then realizes that nothing has happened. She escorts drunk girl out of the room, though drunk girl is moaning "But I want to stayyyyy."