Ecstasy affects your judgement
It began in the usual way. I'd got a big bag of pills, and around teatime we decided that perhaps, in lieu of tea,we should maybe eat some. So we did. Later that night we were to be found in the Leadmill, on Tuesday's "Hell" hard house and trance night, Nialll doing his usual top-off, Elvis glassed, on the spot stomping routine, me in a pair of shorts and skinny top making shapes, skipping and basically looking like a big gayer. I always looked tremendously gay when dancing.

As the evening wore on, Niall and I left reality further and further behind, and by dint of being the two most fucked people there we began to attract attention, not least from a young girl (quite nice looking) and an older woman; stringy, ratty and not really my type of person before. The girl kept talking to me, cghttering away, and I was civil and chatty, and very polite. She began to dance like a twat too, and we had lots of fun. Then the older woman joined in... drunken old slappers not being my thing, I was civil, but short, and evaded her to go back to my friends. Suddenly, there she was, lying on the floor making obscene and gruesome pelvic movements. It turned my stomach, so I turned away, and told the younger one that I was busy. She copped off with my mate Fat Tom, and the older lady attacked me. She was removed, and overhearing the fight between her and the bouncers I began to understand she was the young girls' mother. Christ.

Anyhow, the night ended and the next week I was back again, smashed out of my brain, dancing like a twat, and having a competition with Niall to see who could ingest the most chemicals without passing out. We were both going great guns, when who should I spy but the young girl, without her mother. Fat Tom, being cool (!), wandered over to chat her up, resume where he left off and hopefully get his end away. She said "Fuck off Fatty" and made a beeline for Niall and I.

I doubt she was fussy as to which of us she might get, but I ended up succumbing to her. We had a chat and snog. I gave her a little squeeze to ensure everything was present and correct and up my high standards, and she asked if she could come back to mine. I would have obliged, but I had Little Beki coming over for an afterparty and was already on a promise so we fixed up a date for two nights hence. This proved to be a mistake.

Two nights later we met up, and went to a nice clubby bar. Immediately she looked out of place. She was also a little younger, a little commoner and a great deal stupider than I had anticipated. I worried a little, but thought I should give her chance, perhaps I was being a little harsh.

I wasn't. Within half an hour she had told me that she had had an abortion at 16, her mum was on the game, or had been, and a whole host of other stories that I was fairly confident were bullshit. I didn't doubt she was a bit rough, however. Eventually she went for a pee, and I called Niall, explaining my predicament. Well, he said, perhaps you should double drop. SoI did. Half an hour later, I was having a wonderful time, ripped to the tits!

Whilst I spent most of the night laughing at her, she was nice enough, we had a nice time together and then I took her home and gave of my best! She was an attractive girl, and pleasant enough too.

Anyway, the next morning came, and I was overcome with a feeling of grottiness. I put her on the bus home, had a shower and went back to bed, feeling seedy, yet satisfied.

This was a feeling that didn't last long. Within hours I was receiving text after text after text. Within days she was pestering me with calls, demanding my attention. I had to change my mobile number, and being as I used it for business too, this proved to be a pain in the arse. Then she began turning up at the door. I became frightened to open it in case I was attacked by a 17 year old nympho with the stability of a ferry with the loading doors open.

Then the letters began. All addressed to my nickname. She never knew my real name thank God, or doubtless she'd have followed me up and down the country.

Eventually I stopped going to the club she met me in and moved to a new house. Then it all went silent. After a week or two I missed being stalked, so me and Niall began a campaign of prank calls, just to hear her lunatic northern voice.
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Thu 16 Sep 2010, 13:42, Reply)