Oh well, they can be used for rags still...
House party

Mid 90s.

Old friends getting together, getting very drunk.

As the night goes on, I find myself sitting next to a long standing female friend, squashed against the end of the sofa because four people are trying to sit on a sofa made for three.

She snuggles up to me and I put my arm round her, nothing flirty, we’ve always been a touchy feely bunch, so it wasn’t odd in any way.

My arm is over her shoulders, more drinks are consumed and I realise that the other two people have got up, so she could move down, but she hasn’t.

People start to go to bed, we’ve all got our designated sleeping places, and our rooms are next to each other.

Eventually we are the last two people up and the inevitable happens. We kiss, we fumble, and we end up in my bed making passionate, violent, beautiful love.

Or more accurately, I expect, we have an inept drunken fuck.

Then we talk and decide that it would probably be better all round if we didn’t tell anyone, as she was, admittedly not happily, involved with someone else, so she snuck off back to her room and I fell fast asleep.

Later, I hear people knocking about outside, so I wake, bleary eyed and stumble into the midday sun to a room of hungover people.

I help myself to coffee, settle down to watch ‘Football Focus’ or whatever it was on at midday on a Saturday.

Then the door flies open, and in storms the girl whose house we were staying in, waving a bed sheet in front of her and yelling
‘Scarpe, what the fucking hell did you do this bed?’

As she hurls the sheet in my direction and I look at it to see a huge, browny red stain right across the middle of it.

I look up and see that my nights fun is studiously looking anywhere that doesn’t involve making eye contact with me.
And I realise that the claim ‘Oh, shit, I must have had a nosebleed or something’ doesn’t really convince anyone when you can’t just say ‘Christ, she didn’t tell me she had her period’.

To this day, I still have no idea what these people think happened. It’s one of those things that we just don’t talk about.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Mon 1 Dec 2008, 18:10, 1 reply)

Some of them must have guessed.

( idonthaveafunnynickname Drink-Aware? Sure. I'm aware I want another drink., Mon 1 Dec 2008, 18:35, closed)