Some reading lately has caused me to consider some matters and conclude that nature is the mortal enemy of men, see I always said she was Ms Nature didn’t I? What has caused me to hit upon this recurring theory again? The incongruity between the sexes and, in particular, their relationship with alcohol, it really is destined for failure. I am sure that all of the guys that read this post will be reminded of their past experiences with the exception of the younger ones who still have all of this to look forward to, for the girls? well I’m hoping that you learn something but of course you may well already know. Since this is my blog, this is my story but like I say it is far from unique and if you don’t believe me go out to a pub or club tonight and you will see evidence of it everywhere.
So we turn to a young man (it was a long time ago) who has hooked a date with a definite 10, you know the drill he is looking at a girl who is well out of his league a proper stunner that ticks more boxes than he has on his list* who knows why this came to be, maybe a weak moment on her behalf or maybe she was sick of dating 10s. Arriving at the first pub to meet his date our man is greeted with a killer rock chick, leather trousers, long black hair, tattoos, the works, mentally patting himself on the back they share a brief but passionate embrace before heading to the bar. Rock chick types don’t do girly drinks so they both hit the beer**, loud music, a great band and plenty of beer make a great start to the evening and then she mentions a friend playing in a band down the road so they head off. Entering bar No 2 as a slightly drunk couple is amazing, he knows that people are looking because he has a 10 wrapped around his arm, actually she has a hand in his pocket playing with his ‘change’, now our man is on fire, the beer keeps flowing and he knows he has hit the jackpot. The beer keeps coming and on her return from the washroom the 10 pins our man aggressively to the wall for a passionate kiss that shows they both need to tear each others clothes off, there is nothing that seals a perfect night better than knowing your both desperate for each other.
Our man heads to the washroom and the special atmosphere of piss and fresh air reminds him that he has drunk a lot of beer, a steadying hand and quick refresh comes with a mental note to slow down. His 10 is waiting with a beer and follows up fast with a close grinding dance that makes it abundantly clear where things are heading, of course it’s just wrong not to celebrate this with a Jack Daniels isn’t it? Closing time sneaks up and as we leave the cold nights air does that thing that it does and causes the beer to boil in my stomach and the alcohol to find the expressway to my brain but its ok there’s a taxi rank and it’s not far to go. The back of the taxi is never a good place to realise that your drunk, your stomach is doing a dance and your head feels overheated, I swear that the swaying motion of a Black cab is designed intentionally to ensure that they get the vomit ‘bonus’, and now rock chick remembers that someone told her that they were going to a party ‘we should go’. Now the drunken mind is trying to think of a valid excuse, how can I get out of this with at least the phone number for the 10? hell even if I never call it I want it!
I fail and in my drunken attempt to show an absence of funds I show exactly the opposite, before I know it I am wobbling into a fog of sweet-smelling smoke at 3 am with the hottest girl in the place and a very urgent need to hide under a duvet for a day or so, how did I get here? how will I escape with any dignity? and how in the hell is a girl that weighs significantly less than me looking so good on the same volume of beer? A trashed bathroom gives scant opportunity to refresh, the heat and noise are not helping me hold it together and the glass of JD that seems to have appeared in my hand is steadfastly refusing to evaporate, despite the fact that I am doing nothing other than warming it with my hands. While the 10 greets some friends I am looking at the curtains and wondering if I can get away with eating a small piece of them to soak up the churning alcohol in my stomach and then, just as I am having a close chat with despair, she is back, grabs my glass, downs the warm grog, grabs my hand and says ‘lets go, I need you and this is rubbish’. Stumbling down the stairs to the street we hit lucky and grab a cab back to her place, oh god why? I am struggling to hold the liquid in my stomach and as a man I know that does not bode well for bedroom activity, if big Gav is this mashed then little Gav will have assumed he has the rest of the night off!
Arriving at her flat I throw far too much money at the cabbie who gives me that look that says it all,in summary it says ‘hey you got a 10 and messed up, would you like me to give you a hand with the lady?’ We get in the door and she is stripping and dragging me to the bed as I desperately fight off the shrinking walls and try to stop the room spinning, we hit the bed in a fit of passion that threatens to end with me decorating the duvet and I manage to drag myself to the bathroom with the old classic of ‘needing a piss’. In the bathroom I grab the sink just too late and collapse against the bath, telling myself to ‘shhh’ I take 3 attempts to get upright but its all too much and I vomit, luckily there is very little in the way of solids to force down the sink but its a good hurl and try as I might that is not a quiet activity. Having emptied my abused stomach I search for some form of toothpaste to refresh my mouth and emerge shivering, shaking and hoping to god that she is going to go easy on me, there on the bed is a snoring rock chick with the most beautifully presented and almost naked bum up in the air, my relief is almost palpable.
I manage to wrap a duvet over her before falling onto the bed next to her but the second that I lie down the room spins so I resolve to sit upright and deconstruct the evening. In the morning my 10 is still a 10, albeit without make-up, me? I am about a 0.5 , sick to my bones and with an aching neck from sleeping upright, but I have gained a friend, she is so happy that I didn’t take advantage of her and so sorry for passing out, a kiss as I depart to find my own bed and spend a day or so recovering and that’s it, the moment has passed and my new-found friend will remain only that in, fact she will become almost a sister to me for years but little Gav will never know what he missed. If my teenage 10 should ever happen to read this then I gladly accept I desperately wanted to take advantage really I did.
This was one of the ‘luckier’ experiences of my youth but why is it that women get horny when drunk and men get incapable? Is beer Ms Nature’s way of creating lesbians? ‘look he is useless but if you had a girlfriend ….’ And there is no way of avoiding this, you ruin the mood if you’re not both drinking and you fail the end goal if you are drinking you can’t win damn you Ms Nature you must hate us.
*Ladies I can assure you that young men have very few boxes on their check list
**To this day I have no idea where it goes in a slim woman