The blowjob that never was
Okay, now as a younger Fredzlet I used to smoke rather a lot of weed. A lot of the people I hung out with also smoked a fair bit, so for these reasons a room was often set aside at parties for those of us wishing to get fantasticaly stoned. On one occasion though, a party at my friends I beleive the house was rented and smoking was banned inside, so my friend thoughtfuly supplied chairs and such in the shed at the bottom of the garden.

Now, I was in the shed, relaxing in a chair, staring in a post-joint haze at the ceiling. The stoner crowd had thinned out a little, leaving me in the shed with a girl I vaugely knew from somewhere. At one point she leaned over me to fix another joint and someone walked in, stammered an apology and left. I thought nothing of it and continued to smoke and chat with this girl, probably about how stoned we both where. Stoners can get very boring.

Anyway, I stagger back inside to be met with my mate. She doesn't look fantasticaly happy and hisses in my ear "was xxxx giving you a blowjob in the shed?" After a few seconds of hazy confusion I realise that in the dark shed, whoever had walked in would have been met by me leaning back in a chair, looking fantasticaly relaxed with a woman leaning over me. It would have been easy to assume I'd been receiving a blowjob. I swear to god in my head I was framing a sentence or two that would explain completely exactly what had happened, and calmly let my friend know what had happened.

But no, in my stoned state I just giggled for a good few seconds, a massive stupid grin plastered across my dumb face. She rolls her eyes and looks disgusted with me. Okay, I think, that's odd. So I do a quick assesment of what has happened. I've certainly not denied and possibly verified a rumor that I was getting a blowjob in the shed. Not the worst thing that happened, I'm sure. What else? Oh shit, I realise. The girl has a boyfriend, I vaugely know the guy. Oh fuck. And he's here, at the party. Double fuck. He's a lot, a lot bigger than me. Triple fuck.

It's at this point that several joints worth of paranoia kicks in, and I spend the next half hour planning my escape from the party. I'm pretty sure there's a moral to this story, possibly several.
(Fredz A graveyard of hopes, a dump of ambition, Thu 23 Apr 2009, 14:49, Reply)