The Proposal

Day One: Made out at the club.
Day Two: Blamed it on the alcohol.
1 month later: We're friends, hanging out, having fun.

One night, we're at Vertigo celebrating a friends passing of a different kind of Bar. After a particularly strenuous dance session, I go to have a cig outdoors. He pursues and the following conversation ensues:

Dude: So I think you're a great girl and I want to know how you feel about me.
Me: Yeah you're a cool dude. I'm glad we're friends.
Dude: I think there's something more than that between us.
Me: Um, you're a great guy, but I don't want a relationship right now, blahblahblah... "It's not you, it's me."
Dude: So are you really trying to say that when we made out at the club that one time, you didn't feel anything? I could have been any random stranger?
Me: Sorry, but yeah it really could have been anyone.

That's not all folks.

Two days later, I'm checking my email and I have one from the dude titled "Proposal." Oh I wish I had saved that gem of an email. Basically it went like this:

Dear You,
I think we have a lot in common and I really enjoy hanging out with you. I would really like us to be friends, but think there's a lot of sexual tension between us. I really want to be friends though and think it'd be best to just address it. That's why I propose that you and I hook up, just once. Don't worry, no one has to know. Don't think about it, just say yes.
-Dude

I deleted and never spoke to him again.

Lesson: There's always a price to be paid for drunken makeout sessions.