Never judge a book etc...
In one of those moments that makes me feel I might actually be cool, but which later turn out to be anything but the case, I was at a party one night and actually picked up good-looking girl.
"Would you care to come back to my place for a nightcap?" says I.
"Why yes indeed I would," she replies, "and some sex would be super too."
As we were leaving, my flatmate, who had introduced us, raised her eyebrows and said: "Oh well, I guess you know what you're doing."
So we arrive at my house, head straight into my bedroom and start snogging and struggling out of our clothes.
Seconds later, we're in bed, in a hot embrace, I'm thinking I'm an absolute certainty here when she pushes me away and starts crying.
Then she started giggling and grabbed for me again... And so it begins.
For the next hour, she would alternate between clutching madly at me, hands going everywhere they should, then pushing me away.
Clothes would come off, clothes would go on. Put your hand here would be ordered, get your hands off would be screamed.
Fits of laughter would be interspersed with sobs.
Eventually, with sobriety finally clicking in, I realised something was terribly wrong and asked if she was OK.
"Oh I'm sorry," she says, "I've been on anti-depressants for years and stopped taking them today.... and you remind me of my uncle who tried to touch me when I was a girl."
Instantly sober I suggested perhaps I should take her home.
No dice.
She wanted to stay the night, insisted everything was fine, I tried to talk her out of it but eventually we wind up back on my bed (I'm dressed again by this stage) and I start to doze off.
A few minutes later I hear her rustling about, then moving out into the kitchen where she opened a few drawers (the cutlery drawer unless I was mistaken) and comes back into the room.
In an instant I'm out of bed, holding the pillow like a shield and turning on the light.
She's screaming "What? What?" I'm yelling "Where's the knife???" she's confusedly clutching a glass of water (and had somehow slipped back out of her clothes), I'm terrified, she's embarrassed, it's a pillow-tumbler Mexican stand-off... she starts screaming, I start running, it's utter chaos.
"Oh yeah," says my flatmate, who had introduced us the night before after the girl had calmed down enough to get dressed and accept a ride home, "I should have mentioned she had a few problems at the moment".
....
On the upside, about a week later I did start shagging another girl I met at the same party and she was a dirty, dirty, piece of work.
It was a great pity when her fiance came home from an overseas trip and we had to stop...
( difficultchild, Tue 21 Nov 2006, 4:49, Reply)