Friday the 13th?

A strange odor, like cheap musky perfume suffocated him. His eyes fluttered open. He pressed his temple to still the thumping in his head while his eyes grew accustomed to the strange surrounding. His body felt snug between the soft downy bed underneath and the thin coverlet around his naked body. Something caught his attention in the far corner of the unfamiliar room. A wedding gown draped over a chair and a wedding suit crumpled on the floor. He rubbed his eyes and gave in to a yawn as he tried to recollect where he was.

A deep raspy snort like an animal with catarrh came from his left. He turned to see the mass of dimpled flesh with sandy brown hair and a mouth wide open that made the forbidden sound. Oh shit! He jumped out of bed. He raked his hair and steeled himself to remember what he was doing in bed with a stranger. His middle finger caught a strand of his hair and as he disentangled the hair, he felt a ring on his finger. He slowly brought his finger down and glared at the ring. He was married? It couldn’t be!

Then he remembered the night before at the casino in Las Vegas, half way through his fifth bottle. He’d been drowning his sorrow since Linda walked out on him. In a drunken stupor, he’d made a bet with his friends that he’d marry the first woman who walked through the casino door, right there and then.

In a hazy flash, he recollected the overweight waitress that came in through the door and how he’d gone ahead with his bet. He vaguely remembered saying ‘I do’ and getting the room. He squeezed his eyes shut to keep going but his mind wouldn’t yield up any more memories. His reached for the coverlet and slowly lifted it up. He dropped it and ran back. She was naked as well. Did he? Did they? He could feel bile rising in his throat. He ran into the bathroom and retched all over the floor.