We keep at it until he starts to remove himself from his pants.

"Woa there, cowboy," I say.

"What?"

"Don't you want to... you know... 'warm me up' first?"

He smiles. "I don't know, you seem pretty warm already."

He tries to kiss me again, and I push him back. "Yeah, I don't mean cover me with blankets, I mean go down on me." I can tell my whiskey is wearing off.

"Oh. Well, yeah, I guess I could."

What a regular Casanova over here. "Do you not want to?" I ask.

He scratches his head, with his belt and pants still as open as a last-minute rummage sale.

"I'm just...not that into doing... that."

"Going down on women?"

He sighs. I wonder if his Jagermeister is wearing off, too. "I'm just not a big fan."

"But you like putting your penis inside women, right?"

"Uh, huh, yeah." He smiles.

"Then why would you put your penis somewhere that you wouldn't put your mouth?"

He scoots back onto the couch, facing the wall. "Wait... what?"

Between the whiskey wearing off, his sheepish unwillingness to face my crotch, and the burp he just emitted while I've been staring at him, I've lost my appetite for dumb jock sex.

"I think I'm going to Uber on out of here," I say, snatching my purse and hurtling myself towards the door. I don't want to get the chance to look at his face or hear him say anything before I find myself on the street, wondering where the hell I am, in every way possible.