Carly watches David slide on his blue underwear over his pale, skinny legs and wonders how she ended up bringing this guy home. She had met him at her friend Stephanie’s birthday party the night before and thought that he had nice hands. She had laughed at every joke he had made, delicately tilting her head back and letting out a restrained, yet joyful laugh. She had done so because, what else could exposing one’s neck possibly mean? Her friend Stephanie had decided her party would be an ironic one, in which hipsters in skinny jeans would go to a karaoke bar and gleefully sing out their ironic renditions of Sweet Caroline, California Dreaming, Rock Lobster and She Bang. Carly sang My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion to the delight and horror of those assembled. David did not sing. They talked about their plans for the future, or rather, David talked and Carly listened. David wants to travel. Carly said that she did too. He wants to go to South America and live in a small hut and then follow the same trail that Che Guevara took when he explored the Continent by motorcycle. Carly ordered another shot. David would wait until he got his degree to do so, to which Carly replied that she thought it was a very solid plan. David told her that he was going to be a novelist. Carly felt herself moisten at the very notion. Two Jaggermeister shots later and she was inviting him to see her book collection. He was very interested in seeing it. Now, as he is leaving, she wonders how the combination of ironic moustaches, skinny jeans, karaoke and Jaggermeister could be so incredibly intoxicating that she ended up with this guy in her bed. No words have been spoken between them this morning and she knows that he will tell her that he will call and she will hope that he does, even though she is, at this point, thoroughly disgusted with herself for sleeping with a guy that wears blue underpants.