There’s a guy who I’ve flirted with on and off for the past year or so, and he’s not stereotypically attractive, but he’s smart and there’s something about him I found sexy. I’d put off going any further than flirting as he’d once slept with a friend of mine, and I believe in ho’s over bro’s all the way. Turns out, the rules of sisterhood need not apply when that sister in question, sleeps with a guy you were dating behind your back. Anyway, I actually ended up on my way back to his house once before…
We’d sashayed from the Soho scene to the South and now I was on a train with the teacher in question at nine in the morning. I suddenly had second thoughts about what a bitch I was being. Sleeping with a guy my friend had first, makes me no better than him. I had to get out of this. So I look to my right and the teacher is sparko (snoring and all). Totes dribbling on his own shoulder like Kerry Katona on This Morning. I feel bad admitting that I contemplated jumping off the train without waking him, but as if God had read my mind and answered this desperate girls prayer… He jumped up from his sleep, obviously still HALF asleep and ran off the train before realising what he was doing. LOLGASM!
Anyway, back to the night in question. (“in question” is totally my phrase for this post). After four nights drinking, one massive drug binge in Birmingham and two days in bed smoking green (the beauty of the Easter break) I dared to hit the town again. Soho drinks turned into Soho drunks as the clock hit 2am and I bumped into the teacher. Within seconds we were in a taxi (think Carrie B rushing for the Barney’s sale) and I was all over him like a Geordie lass at a free bar. Safe to say, I was well and truly drunk. DRUNK off my ass. And while last week I couldn’t help but poke fun while the guy I met poked nothing, I had no complaints this time. We even tried MORE! magazines Position Of The Week.
And while it was going well so far, I’m assuming he was part of a house share as more than one person bellowed through the walls:
“Do you mind?! Some of us have to get us for work tomorrow!!”
“Can you keep it down!! We’re tryna sleep!!”
Whatever, I wasn’t. So ya’ll better put your earplugs in and go back to bed! Nah don’t get me wrong, people hearing you shag is 100% cringe, but sometimes you can’t help it. And after ten weeks of no sex and one encounter where his penis looked like a thumb, I think I was entitled to a little pleasure. Cut to me ROARING like Cindy Campbell. And although we all know that one night stands picked up from G-A-Y Late are the epitome of class, you can’t beat leaving before he wakes up. And stealing £20 from his bedroom floor because you can’t afford to get home. *Hangs head in total shame* This was a MAJOR low point in my (sex) life.
In my defence, I had a doctors appointment I was in a rush for. And if he ever calls me, I would def tell him. (Damn you conscience). OH, and I should point out the story only gets more glamorous, when you have to look for and put on your shoes on infront of a rather tired looking flatmate eating his breakfast.
“Haven’t seen an oyster card around here have you?”
Silence. He wants to say I have no morals, dignity or class and thank me for my operatic rendition of Madame Butterfly that kept the whole house awake.
“No worries…I can just pick up another one. Take care.”
Silence. Looking me up and down with pure disgust as if I were five foot eleven of pure turd. What could I do? I’m currently still learning from my mistakes. Least I was the bad example for once… Swings and roundabouts I guess.