I once went on a blind date with a lass a mutual mate had thoughtfully set me up with. To say she was a tad rough was an understatement, for she proceeded to drink me into oblivion and then picked a fight with a bloke on the next table, who wisely skulked off in fear. She had a voice that had a default volume of 95 decibels and announced that she’d taken quite a shine to me.
The entire night I was trying to be polite whilst formulating an escape plan. The idea was to avoid causing my mate any bother or to avoid seeing this lass again. And I got drunker…and drunker.
The next morning I became aware of the most horrendous headache, closely followed by a taste in my mouth that suggested a large and no so recently deceased badger had spent the night in it. Now this in itself isn’t an unheard of occurrence as it had happened a good few times over the years.
My mind started to repeat a mantra over and over again “Please let me be on my mate’s sofa”…
…I opened my eyes and immediately wished I hadn’t. Simultaneously I felt a wave of regret, self loathing, denial and no small measure of fear – a subtle blend of emotion I shudder to recall even now, a decade on.
Gak.
The mutual friend and I are no longer in touch.