Going out ‘On The Pull’…

Lexachu’s post has brought back the horrific memories of my late teenage years…

Fantasy: Go out, meet up with your mates, have a few drinks, have a laugh, Approach (or better yet, be approached by) attractive girl, chat, get on, have things in common, share sense of humour, buy more drinks, make arrangements for further date or maybe even the possibility of ‘back to her place’.

Reality: Go out, meet mates, get pissed, drool at girls. Overpriced nightclub. Overpriced ‘beer’ (weak piss). More perving over girls. Indulge in conversations with mates that involve ‘marks out of ten’, how many one ‘might get to the pound’, and comments like ‘phwoarr’ etc in a ‘Sid James’ fashion. Make utter twat of self by showing off or being over the top. Kicked out. Kebab. Sick. Struggle to get home. Broke. Alone.

Repeat pretty much ad infinitum…

My strike rate must’ve been about 1/100 if I think about it, and the tragedy is that now I understand that I actually used to be quite good looking (believe it or not)…and I wasted so many opportunities by being a general all-round pissed up git.

Hindsight can be a proper cunt sometimes.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 3 Jul 2008, 9:57, Reply)