You Absolutely Should Have a One-Night Stand

Welcome to CHEEKY by Kristina Nasti

I lay in bed with a stranger beside me and told him everything about my life. 

“I have daddy issues. I spoke to him the other day for the first time since he left when I was seven. My mom and stepdad are moving away, my sister has a drug addiction, and… I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I’m sorry.” 

But his eyes never left mine. He was listening, really listening. Absorbing. 

“I used to be addicted to opioids, I once cheated on an ex-girlfriend, and my dad is sick. So, I guess we’re sharing our traumas right now?”

I slept deeper that night than I had in a long time.

The day started typically for how my Sundays did in my 20s—out to some sort of brunch where I’d get blackout drunk before 3 PM. This time, for a friend’s birthday at a bougie club in NYC. 

Someone knew a sketchy promoter who got us on a table for $25 each, so we spent the day drinking warm champagne and sharing approximately five cold french fries. “We only have an hour left and I’m nowhere near drunk,” I complained to the birthday girl as I ordered us $70 worth of Patron shots.

Next thing I know, I’m wasted. Grinding up against an acquaintance’s cousin who I politely shook hands with three hours earlier. 

The weeks leading up to this day had been nothing short of hell. My stepdad had accepted a job in Florida, my parents had sold their home, and just two weeks before they were ready to leave, they discovered my sister had been using again. I was still living at home at the time, and she moved back in after a breakup, so I spent weeks awake all night worried that if I fell asleep, I wouldn’t be able to catch her doing drugs in her room.

I finally put my big girl pants on and moved in with a friend in Hoboken. I know that seems crazy at 28, but Italian-Americans tend to live at home well into their 20s. 

I was single for three years at this point. I caught my ex cheating on me by logging into his Snapchat (sooo 2014) and had spent the better part of the last three years getting drunk and kissing boys that made me cry. After that got old I decided celibacy might be good for a bit. 

But what’s a girl to do when she’s champagne and tequila wasted, grinding up on a stranger, and she doesn’t live with her parents anymore? Take him home, duh.

So, we hitched an Uber back through the Lincoln Tunnel at 2 PM on a Sunday. I thought, “OMG, I can’t believe I’m having a proper one-night stand. I feel like Samantha Jones.” 

Also, can you call it a one-night stand if it happens while the sun is still out? Lmk, thanks!

I texted my new roomie to warn her that I was bringing home a dude and begged her not to judge me. She held my hair back over the toilet while he went off to find condoms. I was too shocked that he didn’t beg me to do it without one to realize I was puking up the Patron.

Being a sexually active woman who wants to be responsible is a double-edged sword. If you have condoms on hand, he might judge you. If you don’t, he’ll beg you not to use one until you give in… and then he’ll judge you after. We women are people pleasers, so of course, we don’t consider what we want. It’s the exact reason we go on the pill in the first place, right? To feel just a tiny bit in control and not get pregnant by a man who can’t even bother to buy some Trojans before you give him the goodies. 

But this man? He was different. 

Luckily, by this time in my life, I ditched the nice girl act and didn’t let anyone near me without protection. So he walked over to a Rite Aid in a city he’d never been (he also got kinda lost on the way back, whoops!) and we were off to the races.

Honestly, I don’t remember that part very well. I had deleted my dating apps two days prior and made a silent promise to The Universe that I would stay single forever if it meant I had to change myself to be with someone. I refused to play games, be cool, and act mysterious. So, when I found myself in bed next to a stranger I met a few hours prior, I told him everything about me. 

“I’ll probably never see this guy again, but he seems cool to talk to. Who cares if I overshare?”

I’ve always been somewhat woo-woo, into meditation and journaling and shit. At this point, I wasn’t super into energy or anything, but this man had the safest, most calming energy I’ve ever felt. I knew I could tell him about my life and he’d actually listen. No one cried or anything, it didn’t get all weird. We just shared and talked for hours until we fell asleep.

We awoke to the sound of “Who Shot Ya” by Biggie–- his 8 AM alarm clock. He made a phone call. “Did you give Dad his meds? Okay, I’ll be home later.” He had his alarm set daily to make sure his dad took his medication, so he was calling to check on him. In the last few years, since his dad’s stroke, he hadn’t done much dating or socializing, and he most definitely didn’t spend the night out. In the blink of an eye, he’d become the head of his household. A parent to his parents.

We spent the morning getting breakfast at a diner, where I watched him roll up his pancakes and dip them into syrup by hand. I sat across the table feeling like I’d known him my entire life. I offered to pay, he didn’t let me. 

I drove him home to Staten Island. I was going there anyway to say goodbye to my parents before they drove to Florida to start their new life. I fully left our interaction detached from an outcome and okay with the idea of not seeing him again. This man was so respectful, kind, and warm that I wished the best for him and knew I would think of him fondly regardless of whether or not I heard from him again.

Looking back now, I realize that this man was placed in my life at exactly the right time. My parents left and even though I was a grown woman, I was sent someone to look after me. 

You’d think a relationship that started out as a one-night stand would be fiery and toxic, hot and heavy. But, no. It was gentle, a slow-burn. For the first two months, I was fully convinced that there was no way it would go anywhere because it felt “too easy.” 

It’s been nearly six years since then and it’s still easy, it’s still burning, and he still listens to every word I say as if he’s never heard anything more important in his life.

Our Wedding Day: October 28, 2023 Las Vegas

This inaugural blog post is dedicated to my husband, Joe. Thank you for loving me and supporting me through every crazy idea, pivot, breakdown, and breakthrough.

You’re the center of my world.