One-night stands are a part of human life and our quest to find love – or, perhaps, to delay finding it. They can be spontaneous and passionate. More often than not, they are sloppy, awkward and forgettable.
In one survey, 66 percent of Europeans admitted to having had at least one one-night stand. In terms of satisfaction, there’s a gender gap (when isn’t there): Over 38 percent of European men reported being very satisfied following a one-night stand, compared to only about 16 percent of European women. Colour me surprised!
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The morning after a one-night stand, our judgement is often clouded by hangxiety, so avoiding confrontation seems like the easier option. Usually, we want out of them ASAP, to avoid having a mini breakup chat with a complete stranger over dodgy morning breath and comedowns. Sure, we should do the mature thing and honestly communicate, but sometimes instincts kick in and you just have to make a run for it through a park in East London. Totally normal, people.
Unfortunately, this can lead to more awkwardness down the line and leaves both parties feeling shitty. You never know when you might bump into an old flame. Be a grown up: Thank them for the fleeting night of passion and say, ‘See you around’. Failing that, at least you can tell your story as a cautionary tale.
With that in mind, we spoke to seven people who have ditched a one-night stand. Names have been changed to protect their privacy – we tried very, very hard not to judge them.
‘I was in a graveyard being rimmed by someone I hate. So, I put my knickers on and legged it.’
It was Christmas Eve eve at this nightclub that everyone refers to as ‘Sticky Floors’ and I ended up having a one-night stand with this guy I kind of know (it’s a small place). I’ve always hated him, but these things happen! He said we couldn’t go back to his place because his flatmates would be weird, which was a red flag because rent is so cheap around here that no one has flatmates unless they’re a student. I wasn’t living in the area at the time and I’d lost my friend during the evening, so he suggested we ‘find somewhere’ to shag.
We ended up having sex in a field, which turned out to actually be a graveyard. He was so cokey that he couldn’t get it up, and so he ate me out from behind and rimmed me. Here I am, in a graveyard being rimmed by someone I hate.
He just kept trying to get it up, and it was so awkward. I put my knickers on and legged it. I got away from there and called my uncle to come pick me up.
The cherry on top is that I later found out that he was married with kids, and that’s why we couldn’t go back to his. —*Cara, 31
‘The only solution in my brain was to put on my rollerblades and skate back over to her house’
I was fresh out of a relationship (literally days). I went on a uni night out and ended up going home with someone. Not wanting my ex to find out, I gave the girl a fake name. I woke up at 6 AM at hers and realised I needed to get out of there ASAP so I could get home before my housemates woke up – they were friends with my ex, too, so I didn’t want them to know either.
I awkwardly muddled together an excuse about meeting friends at a café before the library opened. We both knew I was full of shit but, thankfully, she didn’t press further. When I got home, I realised I didn’t have my wallet and that I must have left it at hers. But I had no name, no number, no way to contact her. Panic ensued when I realised I needed to collect my wallet before she looked inside it and noticed I had given her a fake name.
The only solution in my brain was to put on my rollerblades and skate back over to her house.
I didn’t know which house was hers. So I skated up and down the street trying to spark my memory, knocking a few doors to no avail (bearing in mind it was around 7:30 AM on a Sunday in student land). I heard a dog bark and vaguely recalled that her housemate was dog sitting. A girl answered the door, holding a dog, but then I realised I didn’t know the girl’s name and, panicking, blurted out, “I think I stayed here last night with your housemate?” She called up to her housemate who came down with my wallet.
I put on my skates, raced home and miraculously made it back before my housemates woke up. Needless to say, it was one of the worst hangovers of my life and I realised I’m really shit at one-night stands. —Michael, 29, Cardiff
‘His parents were there’
I went back to a lad’s house after a night out, and it turned out his parents were there. Cracked on anyway, not keeping anything particularly quiet and quite filthy. Had him call me a taxi and waited in his porch for it to arrive. As it pulls up, his mum starts coming down the stairs. We crouched down to hide from his mum on the porch, then as she got to the bottom of the stairs, the taxi beeped, so I just stood up and legged it. I saw him again in a club two weeks later whilst chatting up my now husband – safe to say I ran and hid from him. —*Lucy, 28, London
‘I left my own house’
I was 21 and living in a new shared house. I shagged this guy because I was sad and he was fit. What’s a girl to do? It was painfully awkward in the morning because his friend was one of my flatmates, and they just started to hang out. He just wouldn’t leave! So I left. My own house and waited until the coast was clear. Fucking stupid from me. —Beth, 26, Birmingham
‘I clambered out his window’
Usual story, matched with a lovely looking man on Hinge and I suggest we meet for some drinks. Turns out said man lived on the other side of London and was only accessible via tube, and the tubes were striking.
Why I didn’t make him come to me, I have no idea, but before I knew it, we were at a pub near where he lived, and it was gradually getting later and later. The date was in shambles. Finance bro, need I say more. However, he was buying drinks. The only way for me to get home was an expensive Lime bike or a long walk. Consequently, I ended up back at his.
And oh my Christ, was it a boy den. I think it is one of the most disgusting flats I’ve ever been in. Fast forward, it’s 5 AM, and I have to get home, get clean, get to work. His bed is positioned next to his window, and that’s the side I am on, being body blocked by him to get to the door.
As I was about to jump over him and leave, I heard his housemate get up – and at this point, there was no way I was interacting with anyone. So I clambered out his window and hopped across to their balcony, which had steps to their ‘garden’, hopped the fence and walked off. I was then greeting with this Whatsapp when he noticed his window open and me gone.
“That was a very sneaky exit? I rate it. Lovely to meet you.” —Anya*, 23, Brighton
‘I did a runner after they asked me how many kids I want’
I’m not proud of this. At all. But I ended up sleeping with someone after a night out, and they were really intense and weird afterwards, asking me questions about how many kids I want, talking about their childhood trauma, telling me how refreshing it was to meet someone who wasn’t married. I went to the bathroom on the ground floor. It was right next to the front door, so I just did a runner. I left my coat there but had my wallet in my jeans. I’m always nervous to bump into them now. —Hassan*, 32, Norfolk
‘I shimmied down the drainpipe after he begged to go to a carvery with me’
I was on a night out with my uni housemate at the start of our second year. The Vengaboys were playing at our campus venue, and all round we were having a great time. Some guys my housemate knew from the uni ‘snow society’ spotted her and came to dance with us. One thing led to another, and I ended up heading home with one of them. I think 20-year-old me was impressed with his snowboarding stories and giddy from the Vengaboys performance.
The morning after, I woke up to the guy in question stroking my hair, telling me he’d love to be my boyfriend and begging me to go to the local carvery with him. This felt quite intense, and being too hungover to really deal with the situation, I waited for him to fall asleep again (after he made multiple further date suggestions and asked if I wanted to be his girlfriend about 4 more times) and I put my exit plan into action by silently getting dressed, sneaking out of his bedroom window onto the garage roof, shimmying down the drainpipe and dashing over to my friends waiting car (I’d texted her to come get me as quick as possible!).
I managed to successfully avoid the guy for the next two years until we graduated in the same ceremony and shared an awkward wave and head nod after spotting each other. —Mya*, 33, London