I Have A Dick On My Face, Don’t I?

I was nursing one of the most ungodly hangovers I’ve ever had in my life, on a bus full of relative strangers, on our way to Chamonix, France.  The night before in Amsterdam had been a complete shit show.  I wanted to sleep but I felt too sick.

A group of us gathered together in the back of the bus to play a game of Who Am I.  The way the game works is that everyone writes the name of someone famous on a post-it note and sticks it to someone else’s forehead.  The person playing can’t see the name on the post-it.  They ask the group yes or no questions to try and figure out who they are.  It was super fun and it took my mind off the fact my body felt like it was shutting down from all the abuse the night prior.

After about an hour of playing I couldn’t handle it anymore.  My hangover had gotten the best of me.  I had to get some rest.  I fell asleep.  When I woke up we had arrived at our hotel in Chamonix.

I got off the bus, grabbed my bags and entered the hotel.  I checked in with the hotel clerk and made my way to the elevator.   I was still a little out of it from my nap.  But I started to notice people were staring at me as I walked by.  I didn’t pay too much attention to it.  The only thing I could think about was getting to my room and laying down.

As I got to the elevator in the lobby I saw my reflection in the steel door.  I now knew why I was getting funny looks from other hotel guests.  Thick, veiny, glorious dicks shooting jizz had been drawn all over my forehead, cheeks and chin in permanent marker.

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I turned and looked at my bus-mates as they broke into laughter.  I wanted to be mad but I couldn’t.  I was in hysterics, laughing at the massive dicks all over my face.  These assholes managed to draw all over me while I was passed out on the bus without me waking up.

Getting the dicks off my face was a huge pain in the ass.  Since they used permanent marker it became a huge ordeal. By the time I was done scrubbing my face with soap and rubbing alcohol I had pretty much forgotten about my hangover.

The part that really got me about this whole situation was the hotel clerk.  It was as if he was used to seeing people with dicks on their face come into the hotel.  He didn’t bat and eye or even smirk as he checked me in.  Nor did he bother to help me out and mention what was all over my face. Which I feel is kind of fucked up.  He just went about his day like business as usual.