21 years old, I visited my friends at their party college for the huge Halloween party. I dressed as the Ultimate Warrior and we started drinking early. By the time our group of eight or so got to the party I was happily torqued. The party was at an old theater, thousands of kids and many, many kegs.
Right when we got in the door there were a group of girls all dressed as Minnie Mouse, and one caught my eye -- she looked like Mila Kunis -- and I made a blurry mental note to find her and talk to her. We'd waited in the line for a while so first order of business was to get a few beers and second was to locate the pisser.
Several beers later and after meeting some interesting cat women, jungle girls, female cops, french maids, and all that good Halloween whoredom, I tried to refocus on finding Minnie Mouse. Sure enough I did find one -- not the one I'd hoped to find, but the night was late, the beer had been consumed, and she did have the little round ears on her head. Close enough.
She got me back to her place, cleaned off the makeup (whiskers for her, multicolored Warrior paint for me) and we managed one hard bang before I passed out. In the morning, I woke up with a massive, pounding hangover, but also the same type of hardon, and rolled over to see what I'd gotten myself into.
Holy crap. At least fifty pounds overweight. Acne. The messy hair and scrubbed face didn't help. I had second thoughts, and then she woke up and lifted her sheets to kind of "invite me in". Mother Hubbard. A body that looked like a soft-serve ice cream cone. And it must have been awfully hot at the party because she stank like old hockey gear.
Whatever had been up when I woke was now down. I said, "Take me home." and got dressed. That was all I said until we pulled up to the street my buddies lived on. I had her drop me off at the corner so she wouldn't know what house I was going to. She tried asking me a few questions but I just straight-up ignored her. After that I was a little more careful about picking up chicks at parties.