traviss

After my last entry, I thought I'd leave a much more light-hearted blog entry.

This is a story about how I fuck things up on a weekly basis.

She laughed at my jokes and seemed to latch on to every word I said. I'd casually brush my hair to one side and offer my opinion and she'd almost always agree. This was going well. Really well.
I'd decided last minute to attend this birthday celebration of a work colleague, before I'd be heading off to Kingston and party until the early hours for the birthday of 3 other friends. Dubious at first, I did it just to appease my working relations, I'd soon changed my tune when I got talking to her. "Her" was a cute, tall, red-haired twenty-one year old sat right opposite me. I didn't do my usual "I must talk to her..", I happened to be pretty content with having a few drinks and heading out to the party I actually wanted to be at. But our conversation dragged me in a little. If I'm totally honest, I can't remember the conversation at all. I just loved the way she giggled and nodded. I like the way she bought me a drink without asking. And I lauged at the way she made a point that the man sitauted next to her was definately her best-friend and not her boyfriend. Regardless, I had to leave her there. There was a good hug and a more than friends kiss on the cheek and I said my goodbye's. What were the chances I'd see her again?

About 3 weeks later I see her again. This time at Afterskool of all places. She is again with her best-friend and I am, at this moment, with my bleary eyed friend. Instantly we recognise each other and get talking straight away. With both of us a little more tipsy than before, the flirting is pretty heavy. Her best-friend goes off to the bar, my friend has disappeared and so we decide to go for a dance. Really, it was just an excuse to get away and make out. At this moment in time. I'm pretty golden. What could go wrong?

Alcohol can go wrong. My problem with booze is that I sometimes go quite beyond my limit. When I do it can have quite spectacular consequences. Emotional outpoor, unneccesary violence, comedy genius.. It can vary. But, then every now and then it's something close to what happened to me over the space of the next few hours.

By the time I realised how drunk I was, it was too late. I was stumbling. I was actually, falling over. I'd already told a different girl that my full time profession was "acting in adult films". I was gone. I'd also managed to pretty much repel the red-head. Being that drunk is never attractive. Still, it was kicking out time and I realised I'd lost all my friends. The girl and her friend offered me the floor and I gratefully took it up. Of course, being what I am, male and drunk, I still thought there was a chance.

Now events are really hazy. I remember getting the bus to Holloway with a detour at Camden to get a steak baguette, where I mixed up my words and told them I hadn't eaten meat in 10 years (what I had meant to say was "I used to be a vegetarian of 10 years"). Back in the room in Holloway, I started to feel a little better. I was sat on the floor, while the two sat apart on the bed playing music on his laptop. Some good songs too. The best-friend passes around shots of Tesco Value vodka. Yeah.. If you have a weak stomach stop reading now..

I don't know how many shots I had, or if I had any at all. I sat there listening to the music when suddenly my stomach reflex kicks in and I gag. Before shit get's really bad, I excuse myself and go to the bathroom. I shut the door, and just spew. I get to the toilet eventually, but not before hitting the floor, bath, wall and toilet seat with chunder. I get rid of the poison and inspect the damage. Luckily, I have the sense about me to do a pretty good job cleaning it up. As picking up chunks out of the bath I start to speak out loud. "Hiya.. Yeah. No, I'm fine.. Holloway... Oh, a friends place". I didn't want anyone to know I'd just covered their bathroom in steak baguette and sambucca so I pretended to be on the phone. Impressed with my cleaning job, I washed my face and prepared myself for a composed entrance.

Walking in to the room, I felt steady on my feet and a lot better inside. The two were both concentrated on the laptop screen, the best-friend turns to me and says "Hey, were you on the pho.. What the fuck is that on your leg?".

Ah. I touched it before I looked down and instantly knew what it was. Just for confirmation, I had a quick glance. Yeah, I was right. "That? That would be vomit. Excuse me." The shameful walk back to the bathroom was horrendous. How did I not check my jeans? How did I kneel in it? How did so much of it stick to my knee? After the removal, I walked back into the room and they'd already set my "bed" up for me. I took my hint and promptly passed out.

Let's not forget here, what essentially this story is about. My trying to get this girl. Well, you'll be glad to know, she did get to have sex. I woke up in the afternoon, greeted by the cute, tall, naked red-head. In the bed of her best friend. Right in my eye line too, was a used condom. I got so drunk, she thought it would be fine to fuck her best friend while the guy she pulled lay comatose on the floor in the same room.

I didn't hang around for very long after that. We made polite conversation as we bought respective food and drink at Iceland for that day.. and then I never heard from her again.

I'd like to say I'd learnt something from this experience, but I know these kind of situations won't end soon. I did however promise myself I'd stay away from Tesco Value vodka. Oh and steak baguettes from dodge Camden stalls.