Monday, 13 October 2008

Access Denied

Sarah is somewhat of a disreputable character. She has previously confessed- no, wait- bragged- that she has beaten up lads and that she hates Asians. She drinks pints and can generally drink most men under the table. She can definitely out-drink me.

I wouldn’t really describe her as my type. Only she’s quite good-looking, and has an infectious little giggle when she flirts. Oh, and she has huge breasts. This could be why I relentlessly forgave her for her ridiculous behaviour over four years.

When there’s only one part of me making the decisions- not the brain- I have a tendency to go round the flirt circle. I lust after someone, uncover psychotic tendencies, tell them to fuck off and get a lobotomy, lust again, and then forgive.

Four years on, the circle continues. Last year, I had driven to Oldham and had found Sarah in Walkabout. Predictably, and with minimal flirt time, I’d kissed her again.

Unlike most men, I find alcohol to do nothing but fuck up my chances with women. That’s why I was driving and that’s how I found myself in Walkabout with my arms around Sarah, again, trying to keep my eyes pointing above neck level.

Three years before this, I had told her I was a virgin. I still was that night, but we’d not breached the subject since. Would she remember? Would she believe me? Is she even up for sex?
Stop. Calm down. Think thoughts like that and you definitely won’t get sex.

I gave her a lift home. This led me to be sat on the couch in her mum’s lounge, a steaming mug of hot chocolate on one side of me and Sarah on the other.

“So explain the suit,” she said, pulling on a jacket lapel.

“Oh. You’d have to be a man to understand, Sarah.” I’ll give you a clue, I thought. Look where it’s got me right now.

She pulled me in closer until I was pressed against her; those two massive beasts slammed together in a red corset- an image I might never forget.

I’d been kissing her for a matter of seconds before her phone rang.

My shoulders slouched suddenly, and I sighed at the typicality of the situation. Now. Fucking. What.

“Just a moment,” she said, a sudden embarrassment fleeting over her face. She picked up.

“Hello… Yeah… No. He’s just a friend- Right. Okay.”

Now Sarah’s posture was similarly slouched. Inevitability had struck again. I had to find it kind of funny. I looked up at the ceiling- her mum could be directly above us, almost anticipating a banal, explicit, muffled soundtrack to the rest of her night.

But she had been spared.

Sarah put her phone back in her handbag. “I’m sorry Matt. You’re gonna have to go.”

Fuck, I thought. I’ve hardly even touched my chocolate.

I nodded. As I stood up and headed toward the door, my mind went into fast-forward. How could I salvage some dignity from this situation? My place would result in a similar letdown. My room is a thin wall away from my light-sleeping parents’ room. Could I afford a hotel? Well, yes, just about. But asking if I could take her to one might not only sound cheap (the hotel would have to be too), but also it would be an affirmation that I was after sex. That’s perhaps not the best impression to give a girl with such volatile tendencies. But then what am I doing here? Why would she invite me in? It must be on her mind.

I was out of ideas, and out of time. And I didn’t have the social graces to manoeuvre this minefield.

“Stay in touch,” I said. “We’ll figure something out.” I kissed her and got back in my car.
I don’t need to tell you what kind of situation I would have preferred. Of course I was kind of pissed off. But maybe being thrown out of a girl’s house by her (possibly jealous) mother is something we all must face- a part of growing up.

I had to go back to Walkabout. By the time I got there the bar was shut. They were already cleaning up, and I was already laughing.

Being a recent former employee they let me in, and I recounted the last hour’s events. The staff were in a similar state of disbelief- what the hell else could possibly go wrong for me? What other scenarios are left?

If anyone knows of any low-priced accommodation in Oldham, please let me know. Otherwise I will continue to find myself in these predicaments.

Please spare a thought for me.

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