First Impressions and my Couch Odyssey

So I had a really candid and interesting conversation with one of my new friends last night as I lay in a happy alcohol induced buzz on his couch, preparing for another night sleeping in my party clothes, not in my own bed. The thought that my roommate must think I'm a gigantic man-whore constantly passes through my head. Since I moved here three weeks ago, I've slept at home on a weekend night once. Because I live at the extreme southeastern end of the city of San Francisco, it makes it both difficult and expensive to find a way back home after the bars and nightclubs have all shut down. Busses are few and far between in the wee hours of the night, and I just can't justify spending money I don't have on cab rides. I've gotten into the habit of just walking back with friends to their houses and crashing on their couch or whatever piece of furniture they have to offer. No sluttiness involved, I swear! Completely innocent, I take the blankets that are offered to me, swallow the fact that my contacts are going to be dry and crusty in my eyes the following morning, and my breath tinged with the flavors of my girly drinks that had caused me to be in this state to begin with. The next morning, I walk to the bus stop, my clothes reaking of dance-floor sweat, someone else's cigarettes, and the restless sleep. I can't wait to just walk into my room, strip down, ditch the crusty contacts, and shower the previous night away. Brushing my teeth is more enjoyable than I would have ever imagined. I need to start bringing a travel bathroom kit with me on my weekend adventures in the Bay Area.
Unfortunately, my couch-surfing adventures seem to be getting me in a bit of trouble, according to my friend last night. And I see the logic of his argument, although I don't want to believe it. But I was told that because I'm the new guy, people are watching me a little closer, trying to figure me out. It's the whole "fresh meat" syndrome I guess. But apparently, what I have been told is that I have an overly flirtatious personality...which means that when I walk home with friends at the end of the night, the perception has been that I am sleeping around. Apparently I flirt with everyone, and I'm overly affectionate, so people are just assuming that whoever I walk home with won the game of my affections for the evening... until the next weekend night, where it becomes a game for everyone else to see whom I will go home with next. It's actually quite comical to be completely honest. However, I am sure that as people really get to know me they will understand that my nightly escapades are driven by my desire to get home both safely and cheaply after a rowdy night of partying. I hope that these first impressions do not follow me around for the remaining three months of summer, but in the meantime I will do my best to assure others that my couch odysseys are 100% G-rated.