Last night was yet another I am forced to "put down to experience". I had arranged to see this girl who told me on Saturday that she was at home alone drinking wine and feeling depressed, so I said "my type of girl", and I suggested we should get a real bottle and get drunk together.
Well, the dim-wit gave me the wrong bus number to get to her place, I ended up miles away and had to get a taxi in the end. These things happen I thought.
We went to the off-licence and I bought a litre of Teachers scotch, things are looking up I thought. We then walked across the road to her place, which was conveniently close to the off-licence, better and better I thought.
We get to her place and I thought "nice place, it just gets better"
Then it went down-hill.
She took me up to her room, in a house she shared with four other people, a Lithuanian, a China-man, some "very weird girl who does not say much" and "a guy who says he is an artist who says nothing at all"
Not bad I thought, into the bedroom already.
I had drank a few beers already so I needed to use the bathroom, she told me it was across the hall and sternly warned me not to piss on the toilet seat, which was obviously an act that would offend her deeply, so I said "don't worry baby, I have good aim"
I took a leak, and splashed all over the toilet, which I can never help doing, then I looked for some paper to wipe it, which is what one does in these situations, and realised that these multi-national-tight-ass-housemates must guard their toilet roll with their life, because their was none in the toilet. I looked for a tissue in my pocket, didn't find one and decided to use the already dirty towel hanging on the door to hide the evidence of my inaccuracy.
I walked back to her room , upon entry the first thing I noticed was an unopened twelve pack of toilet rolls on the floor.
She had bought two packets of counterfit smokes off the Lithuanian when I was in the bathroom, she offered me one, which I declined, I roll my own anyway, and those things will kill ya, when I die, I don't want it to be related in anyway to counter-fit merchandise.
She offered me a seat on the bed, while she sat on the chair and turned on some music on her laptop, her taste in music was not to my taste so I opened the scotch. Six cans of warm coke was all she had for a mixer, a pack of plastic glasses and no ice, Jesus, I thought.
I asked her for an ash-tray to which she replied "just flick it on the carpet, I'll hoover in the morning" Jesus, I thought.
i couldn't bring myself to do it, I just couldn't, so she gave me an empty counter-fit cigerette box to use as an ash tray.
A couple of drinks and a half dozen maddenengly bad songs later I took the laptop from her, put on some real music and made my move.
Eager at first, things were looking up.
Then she broke away, told me she wouldn't do it, and I couldn't stay anyway, she had an issue about sharing her bed, due to some previous experience, bla bla, I rolled another cigerette and poured more scotch while she rambled on about previous experiences, she was really boring me now, did I look like a therapist to her?
I drank and smoked and sat there thinking I would have to seriously work on my moves.
When she finally finished rambling on I made another equally unsuccessful move, it didn't matter anymore, I didn't really want to anyway.
She said she was going to the bathroom and then she was calling me a taxi, so in she went, to the bathroom, without bringing any paper with her.
Disgusting, I thought
When she was in there I looked in her purse, I needed compensation for this terrible ordeal, if it wasn't for the scotch it would be unbarable altogether. She appeared to be more broke than even I was so I left her purse in the same near empty condition in which I found it.
She came back in and rang the taxi, asked me was I taking the scotch, I told her I was taking the scotch.
As I we were waiting for the taxi to extract me from this situation, I wondered what the "wierd girl who does not say much" was doing and whether she liked scotch.
I never found out, as the taxi pulled up, she had the gall to ask "when can I see you again?"
I almost dropped the scotch.
"In hell baby, in hell"
Well, the dim-wit gave me the wrong bus number to get to her place, I ended up miles away and had to get a taxi in the end. These things happen I thought.
We went to the off-licence and I bought a litre of Teachers scotch, things are looking up I thought. We then walked across the road to her place, which was conveniently close to the off-licence, better and better I thought.
We get to her place and I thought "nice place, it just gets better"
Then it went down-hill.
She took me up to her room, in a house she shared with four other people, a Lithuanian, a China-man, some "very weird girl who does not say much" and "a guy who says he is an artist who says nothing at all"
Not bad I thought, into the bedroom already.
I had drank a few beers already so I needed to use the bathroom, she told me it was across the hall and sternly warned me not to piss on the toilet seat, which was obviously an act that would offend her deeply, so I said "don't worry baby, I have good aim"
I took a leak, and splashed all over the toilet, which I can never help doing, then I looked for some paper to wipe it, which is what one does in these situations, and realised that these multi-national-tight-ass-housemates must guard their toilet roll with their life, because their was none in the toilet. I looked for a tissue in my pocket, didn't find one and decided to use the already dirty towel hanging on the door to hide the evidence of my inaccuracy.
I walked back to her room , upon entry the first thing I noticed was an unopened twelve pack of toilet rolls on the floor.
She had bought two packets of counterfit smokes off the Lithuanian when I was in the bathroom, she offered me one, which I declined, I roll my own anyway, and those things will kill ya, when I die, I don't want it to be related in anyway to counter-fit merchandise.
She offered me a seat on the bed, while she sat on the chair and turned on some music on her laptop, her taste in music was not to my taste so I opened the scotch. Six cans of warm coke was all she had for a mixer, a pack of plastic glasses and no ice, Jesus, I thought.
I asked her for an ash-tray to which she replied "just flick it on the carpet, I'll hoover in the morning" Jesus, I thought.
i couldn't bring myself to do it, I just couldn't, so she gave me an empty counter-fit cigerette box to use as an ash tray.
A couple of drinks and a half dozen maddenengly bad songs later I took the laptop from her, put on some real music and made my move.
Eager at first, things were looking up.
Then she broke away, told me she wouldn't do it, and I couldn't stay anyway, she had an issue about sharing her bed, due to some previous experience, bla bla, I rolled another cigerette and poured more scotch while she rambled on about previous experiences, she was really boring me now, did I look like a therapist to her?
I drank and smoked and sat there thinking I would have to seriously work on my moves.
When she finally finished rambling on I made another equally unsuccessful move, it didn't matter anymore, I didn't really want to anyway.
She said she was going to the bathroom and then she was calling me a taxi, so in she went, to the bathroom, without bringing any paper with her.
Disgusting, I thought
When she was in there I looked in her purse, I needed compensation for this terrible ordeal, if it wasn't for the scotch it would be unbarable altogether. She appeared to be more broke than even I was so I left her purse in the same near empty condition in which I found it.
She came back in and rang the taxi, asked me was I taking the scotch, I told her I was taking the scotch.
As I we were waiting for the taxi to extract me from this situation, I wondered what the "wierd girl who does not say much" was doing and whether she liked scotch.
I never found out, as the taxi pulled up, she had the gall to ask "when can I see you again?"
I almost dropped the scotch.
"In hell baby, in hell"
