Great Yarmouth and Super Models
When I was sixteen three of us were allowed to go on a cheap holiday to Great Yarmouth in Stu's Dad's caravan. Imagine the scenario: three spotty social inadequates with pods like bin bags being allowed free reign to spang their batter up all those easy east coast girls' clunges. Looking back it really did start and finish as one big Inbetweeners episode (with less kissing, less groping and less sex).

Anyway, Stu was the least inhibited out of the three of us and he managed to get friendly with a blonde girl from Yorkshire (Keighley if I recall). His parting line to us as he left the caravan was 'consider her fucked'. Oh yeah. Stu knew how to charm them. (We found out, months afterwards, that she wouldn't put out for the wholly unreasonable reason that she was three months preggers.)

We all rendezvous back at the caravan and it is immediately apparent that Stu did not get lucky. The reason was due to the fact that his target had a friend in tow the whole night. Of course this was bad news, except she revealed to them both that she had the hots for me, so now I was expected to go on a double date them them.

Fine and dandy I hear you say. There was a problem however. This girl was ugly. Don't get me wrong, I'm not god's gift, but I have my limit. This girl could effortlessly out-gurn those little Cornish fishermen you used to see on those old Pathe news reels.

Then it started. For the next three days I was hounded by my two supposed friends to go on a date with her. It was incessant. Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner and even at the arcades, I was badgered constantly. You could almost hear Stu's kiwis groan with resentment at my stoic denial. She was ugly. Even if this girl had an amazing personality, even if she would let me do her up the wrong-un she still had a face like a bag of broken china.

The problem was, there were no other dates for Stu until I was prepared to be on the scene. I left it until the penultimate night and I was steeling myself to be Stu's wing man. I was going to take one for the team. I was going to do it.

Early that evening, Stu's intended knocked on our door and she was informed that I was prepared to make up the numbers. At this point I calmly greeted her and let her know when we would be over. Behind the door and completely out of her sight was Col who was silently pissing himself and throwing me some v's. This hilarity was not to last though as Col could hear the whole conversation and I could see his reaction when it transpired that the two girls had got our names mixed up. It was Col she fancied and not me.

Oh sweet lord. Col's face had turned ashen and I have to say I laughed. I laughed harder than ever before. This obviously upset the girl from Yorkshire to the extent that she slammed the door and pissed off back to her caravan. The boot was well and truly on the other foot now as the pressure was now on Col to do the right thing. Col was not for moving however so Stu never got his second date.

After the initial surge of relief it was quite sobering to realise that not even a biffer of such magnitude would fancy me. But my having the last laugh that week was eclipsed by having an even more impressive last laugh as Stu and Col spent nearly a year ignoring phone calls, letters and even an offer to Stu to settle down and live with the initial girl from Yorkshire and her ill-gotten progeny.
(mersault, Thu 3 Feb 2011, 17:04, 2 replies)

Brilliant and must be stolen at once.
(johnson, Fri 4 Feb 2011, 18:13, closed)

Liked for
Inbetweeners and the word 'progeny'
(lemonadegame, Sat 5 Feb 2011, 15:53, closed)