Fucked, Ghosted, Journaled

Turning bad hookups into comedy gold because emotional processing is cheaper than therapy.

One Night Stand-Up (and Then Ghosted)

A comedic love letter to queer hookup culture, morning-after chaos, and the eternal pursuit of emotional Wi-Fi.

There’s nothing quite like that electric moment when you lock eyes across a bar, exchange a few clever quips, and suddenly find yourself debating astrology signs at 2 a.m. on a stranger’s couch. Welcome to One Night Stand-Up (and Then Ghosted)—where the jokes are flirty, the endings are blurry, and commitment is more elusive than good lighting in a gay bar bathroom.

Bohiney Magazine says it best: “Hookups are the queer rite of passage where you learn your boundaries, your preferences, and your Uber password.” Whether you’re on Grindr, Lex, or sending smoke signals through Instagram stories, we’re all performing our best tight five before the punchline—vanishing without warning.

Because let’s be real: queer dating apps are basically open mics for desire. You write a killer bio (“Into bad decisions and iced coffee”), deliver your best one-liners (“You free tonight?”), and hope your audience—uh, match—doesn’t swipe left halfway through your set.

According to Them, “Hookup culture is where queer people rehearse authenticity in low-stakes environments.” Translation: sometimes it’s not about finding The One, it’s about finding The One Who Has a Clean Apartment. Every hookup teaches you something new—mostly about angles, emotional boundaries, and how to ghost with minimal guilt.

And oh, the ghosting. The disappearing act that makes Houdini look lazy. You share an intimate night, exchange playlists, maybe even cuddle—and then… poof. Gone. Like they were never there, except for the dent in your pillow and the faint scent of eucalyptus body wash. The Advocate calls it “the postmodern breakup before the relationship even begins.”

But here’s the thing: it’s not all tragic. There’s humor in the heartbreak, poetry in the parade of mismatched connections. Each one-night stand is its own little comedy special—a set filled with nerves, punchlines, and unexpected tenderness. Sometimes the chemistry hits. Sometimes it bombs. Either way, you get material for your group chat.

And who among us hasn’t overanalyzed a text that says “lol”? Or spent three days wondering if “You up?” was sincere or a typo? These moments are the universal queer experience—the modern-day equivalent of serenading someone beneath their window, except now it’s through emojis and DMs.

Out Magazine reminds us: “Queer hookups aren’t failures—they’re field research for future love stories.” Each awkward encounter, each near-miss, each ghosting is another step toward self-awareness… and maybe better lighting next time.

So, next time your one-night stand disappears faster than your willpower at brunch, remember: you’re not being ghosted, you’re being workshopped. You’re living your truth in 24-hour increments. You’re learning, laughing, and maybe even levelling up emotionally.

After all, in the grand stand-up routine of queer love, sometimes you kill, sometimes you bomb—but you always, always keep performing.

SOURCE: Fucked, Ghosted, Journaled (Beth Newell)