Kunty McPhuck
Scust Szn has Returned
I sat down to my laptop to get some work done but i feel like continuing my self indulgent scribing instead :smug:
So where was i? Oh right. The next morning i wake up with numerous texts and calls, i'm expecting them all to be along the lines of "please don't tell him" "lets never speak of it again" etc etc, you know, the usual. But friends, this is not what i saw before my weary morning-after eyes. I was confronted with questions, such as "why did we do that?" and "what was that?"
Now at this point, any sane and decent human being would have replied "It was nothing" but there's something i've come to realise in the last few months, i am no decent person. I always held this illusion that i was, but here i am, at the podium in front of my OFT brothers telling you that i am not. Maybe i'm being harsh, maybe it would be more appropriate to say "I'm human", but i have moments of horrifying clarity where i can't help but realise that i can't be, not with some of the things i've done. I'm still young though...blah blah, it won't do to argue with myself, there be a story to regale.
Anyway, i simply reply "I don't know...it was something" and with that one text truly starts a journey i both regret and am perversely proud of in equal measure(like i said, i'm a dikk).
So we exchange a few more texts, they're normal...bordering on flirtatious. It just so transpires that this sunday the 23rd the pub for the football is on the agenda. Nothing like the smooth elixir of larger to facilitate and accelerate infidelity. I'm about 4/5 pints deep now, surrounded by lads watching football, little do they know the treacherous deeds that i'm plotting on my phone. I suddenly say "Meet me", i expect a "i can't..." or something, but i get a "where?"...it's on.
I figured i could use the excuse of alcohol again, this doesn't become a real mistake until i do something/meet her when i'm sober. The clever thing is, she was judge levels of sober. She's in the wrong, but i'm sort of living in that shade of grey still:smug:
Once the pub winds down and our revellers retreat back to their homes i'm on a mission, walking with both anticipation and trepidation at what's to come. I'm drunk so yes i'm walking, i'm not risking my license for this girl, not quite yet anyway. We find a serene place, a bench by the river, which isn't anywhere as romantic as it sounds. We sort of just sit and don't say much for 5 minutes, then as time goes on and words start to flow we move closer and closer, til eventually we're kissing on some random bench near the river. Classy stuff.
Sex doesn't happen. But the way in which we almost agreed to start an affair was business like, we discussed logistics and practicalities. If we'd wrote up a contract it wouldn't have been out of place. But it was not without passion, despite my admittance that i sent that text earlier because i'm a c*nt, there's something there...i don't know what but there is. Chemistry they call it i think. I was a couple of days later treated to the admittance "i would have fukked you right there and then on the bench if you'd wanted to". I like i said mates, FILTH, but oh friends, we will get to that, oh yes we shall
Sounds something like
would do in the 21st century.Now your mate whose lil flower you picked, was he a proper friend or a time to time friend
(I may ask the country club board for a favor later if this doesn't pan out)
United got this.
