I know yesterday I promised you a story about my first club hook up and I am here to deliver! Now just a bit of back story. This was just before Charlie, so were still deep in virgin territory. Last kiss was from my high school beloved so I really didn’t have any other experience to go on. Very, very innocent. (How times have changed!) Alrightey guys and girls, buckle in!
I was out on the town with a friend Rebecca and her boyfriend. It was almost nine thirty so as usual I was having difficulty not slurring my sentences. I plopped down at a table just as some of her boyfriend’s friends approached us. Even in my blurry condition I knew which one I bagsed. I hastily relayed the information to Bec and we set about devising a plan of attack. It was very simple really. I would walk towards the bar, bypassing him as I did, stumble a little, and fall oh so coincidentally onto his waiting lap. Not the most graceful approach no, but as I was new to high heels I was probably going to fall over anyway, so we figured we’d take advantage of it. The plan went well, and within ten minutes I was perched on his lap, cradling a sore elbow I had slammed into his chair in the attempt. We started to chat and to my surprise he was quite nice.
Things were going so well that when we changed bars he even held my hand! Oh yes, this was the story I would be telling at our wedding. His Mother would be crying softly behind me, so grateful that her son had found someone as perfect as me in such an imperfect situation. I soaked up the feeling of his hand in mine, deciding I very much could get used to it. At the next bar he bought me a drink and I watched as he paid the bartender and handed me the drink without even an attempt to slip anything into it. Total gentleman. We started to dance and that was when I learnt the art of the grind. Did you know that when you stand very close to a guy you can tell if he is hard?! It was a first for me and when it happened I leapt back with a little yelp. Luckily I disguised it as inaudible karaoke. I ran to the bathroom with Bec and took a moment to contain myself before talking about the amazing and surprising moment that had just occurred. Bec had been with her boyfriend for years so she was well past crotch grazing and didn’t seem to grasp the enormity of my shock. On another deeper, slightly sluttier level, I realised something. I wanted to do it again. Maybe it was the Breezers talking but a huge part of me wanted to get back out onto that dance- floor and rub up all over him. Maybe even for an entire song! So that’s just what I did. And when his mouth closed over mine, all hot and heavy, sweaty and grindy, I couldn’t have been happier. Now what happened next I had absolutely no control over. Bec, seeing our obvious connection suggested to her boyfriend that James should come home with us. We were all staying at my house, which was bachelorette central and there was always plenty of space for extra people. Before I knew it, I was jammed into the backseat of a taxi, the smell of James’s Joop perfume so strong it was close to suffocating me. When we finally reached the house and piled out, Bec gave me a conspiritual wink and hurried into the room she was sharing with her man. Crossing my fingers that they wouldn’t have sex on the new sheets, I walked to my room. It wasn’t until I was in the room that I realised James had followed me inside. I cocked my head to the side at him, wondering what on Earth he was doing there. I asked him if he needed anything and he replied with some seedy nonsense. Amazing how some memories tend to blur after time, and yet I can still remember the very distinct, very unladylike snort I gave at that line. He recoiled in shock for a moment, before collecting himself. I admit if I was in his position I’d be running for the hills after that whopper. But no, he came towards me and gave me another of those hot sloppy kisses. Only this time it wasn’t as nice. Now that the club music wasn’t thudding in my ears and Bourbon and Coke wasn’t being splashed all over my back, it just didn’t feel the same. So you can imagine my surprise when he took his shirt off. My mouth fell open and everything I had ever learnt in sex ed came flashing back to me. Bananas on condoms, birthing videos, tampons blowing up to three times their size when dropped in water. Not the most alluring of thoughts, so I did the only thing I could think of. I left the room and came back in my most manly, unflattering pyjamas. He swept a look over me and I could tell he was disappointed. Five points to me, I thought with a little smirk. Then he swept back the covers to reveal he was wearing only tighty whities. I could totally see the outline and by the looks of THINGS, he wasn’t feeling very sleepy. I walked towards the bed, looking for an escape, but short of pulling out the spare mattress and setting up camp on the floor, I knew I would have to get in. I hoped he hadn’t found my Tim Tam stash under the pillow yet, that would be a little difficult to explain. As I was thinking this, he pulled a bag of Peanut M&M’s from between the bed and wall. Damn. Luckily for him he didn’t eat any, or there would have been tears. I gingerly crawled into bed and switched my lamp off, careful not to touch him in any way. The room was pitch black, and as I waited for my eyes to adjust I kept thinking about what he could be doing at this very moment. If he was touching those M&M’s he was a dead man. Time passed however, and along with the absence of a crinkling packet of M&M’s, there was an absence of his hands. I started to relax. Maybe he just needed a place to stay. Yes, that was it. He wouldn’t risk ruining what we had with a silly one nighter. Besides, he had kissed me, how often do people go out clubbing with the plan to kiss someone, let alone go home with them? Minimal, very minimal. I sighed a contented sigh at a night well spent and went to roll over when suddenly all the air in my chest whooshed out of me as he dive bombed onto my chest. I gasped, slightly winded and very much annoyed. As I opened my mouth to express my feelings his mouth came crashing down on mine. And this time he was all teeth. It seemed his kisses deteriorated the later it got in the night. He gnawed on my bottom lip, all the while groaning and gasping to the point where I wondered if he had hurt himself. Finally from somewhere inside me the sober, feminist Claire decided to speak up. Just as his hand started to snake up my thigh towards no man’s land I slapped him away. I rolled him off me, sat up and turned the light on.
“Oh so you want to do it with the lights on?” He asked, grinning lopsidedly like the idiot I now realised he was. I looked him square in the eye and in my most teacher like voice I replied. “No thankyou. It’s late and I would like to sleep now. Just sleep. Goodnight.” He looked like I’d just shot his puppy. By the looks of things his “puppy” was looking a lot less excited now as well. I nodded in satisfaction, popped an M&M into my mouth and turned the light off. I could feel him staying in the same position for a long time and I couldn’t help but let a small smile creep onto my face.
And then he spooned me.
Good god it was nice. I didn’t even think of kicking him off, the sensation was so fantastic. In fact, I even snuggled closer! The shame.
All too soon however, the morning came. And oh how it came. I awoke not snuggled comfortably against the handsome lovely man I had been dreaming of, no, I woke up crushed underneath a gigantic leg thrown across my stomach and a gropey man hand flung over my chest. Needless to say it shook me out of my romantic thoughts instantly. Now was the awkward moment I had only read about in the saucy novels that Mum tried to keep hidden from me. How the hell could I get rid of him? He had no car, no spare clothes and I was pretty sure he’d spent his last couple of dollars on a kebab. It may have seemed like a great idea at the time, but his choice of garlic sauce was now repeating on him in the most unsavoury of ways. I pried his hand off my chest and pinched his toe just hard enough for him to flinch away from me in his sleep. I was finally free! But not entirely. I looked back at him, my nose wrinkling as another garlic burp seeped out of his mouth, nostrils and eyes at the same time. He must have sensed my gaze on him because he chose that exact moment to open his blood shot eyes. I received a lopsided grin which I assumed he thought was devilishly handsome, before he mumbled “ That was some night huh?” I smiled awkwardly as I backed away from him towards the door, keeping my steps slow and small so maybe he would just think the room was getting bigger and I was shrinking. Hey, weirder things have happened when you’re hung-over right?
After finally reaching the safety of the kitchen and having a stern word to Bec about the dangers of bringing relative strangers home, we devised a plan to get James out of the house. I sauntered back into the bedroom, wincing only slightly as the heady smell of day old garlic hit me. I was going to have to bloody steam clean my sheets to get that out. Doing my best to smile through the fumes, I told him cheerily of our days plan. It basically consisted of smoothies for breakfast so we could start a cleanse for the weekend, and then a couple of hours of shopping, just window as we were clean out of the green, and finishing with pedicures and Gilmore Girls. You can imagine my horror when James agreed to this fantastic day without batting an eyelid. He even made us all have wheatgrass shots with our smoothies! Note to self, if ever you need to empty out the old feedbag, have a wheatgrass shot, I don’t know if I’ve ever spent so long with my head in a toilet. He bought a shirt while we shopped and even picked which season of Gilmore Girls to watch. All the while Bec’s boyfriend was slowly slipping into a coma from which there could be no return (unless fed a 6 pack through a drip.) Finally, finally he let me drive him home. It was just bad luck really that he lived about an hour away from me. As soon as he stepped out of the car I floored it. Polite? No. Desperate? Yes. And you know the worst part? On my way home I started thinking, (never a good sign in my strange little brain.) This guy just spent all day with me. I forced him to do the most inhumane things and he didn’t complain once, in fact, at times he appeared to be enjoying himself… It was then that it hit me. This guy must be gay… or he liked me. The latter seemed the easiest option, but the more I thought about it, the more the signals seemed to be there. But what are you supposed to do when put in this position? Anytime any boy had ever shown even a skerrick of interest in me I was usually sketching a picture of my wedding dress before he’d even said three sentences to me. But this time, I just wasn’t into him. I have never ever been good with confrontations and there are movies I can’t even watch because I feel so sorry for the characters. Don’t even get me started on what happens to the Mother in Muriel’s Wedding. You want to tear up? Bang that in the DVD player. So you can imagine the stress I was feeling, thinking I had to let this guy down. I ate the entire contents of my fridge, freezer and my best friends cupboard (Which is always stocked with deliciously tempting goodies) but surprisingly I couldn’t find the answer there. So I did the only thing I could do, I kept seeing him. (Hey, enough of that judgy judge look. We’ve all been in this situation, yes?) Well if you haven’t here’s the way it went down. Take notes please, I would hate for you to be put into this position from sheer lack of study.
I talked to him on the phone a few times a week but generally found excuses not to see him. I did the usual “How was your day?” and oohed and aahed in all the appropriate places. The great thing about phone relationships is that he’ll never know you are actually watching the Lion King turned down with subtitles on. True, you have to explain why you’re crying as Mufasa gets thrown off the cliff, but a little “it’s that special time of the month” usually sorts that out no problem. Eventually the day came though, I finally had to see him again. As luck would have it, it was New Years Eve. Horrible timing I know. I was out with a friend and her brother and after a couple of bottles of bubbles and god knows how many shots, we were having quite a lovely time. It was then that I got the “hey lets meet up “ msg. I was feeling happy, tipsy and of course horny (It’s New Years people, who doesn’t want a little something something?) so I told him where we were in the city and that he was welcome to come along. After smugly downing another drink, thinking my New Years was going to be particularly memorable this year, I got a rather long text msg. To say it wasn’t what I was expecting would be an understatement. My dearest James had sent me a very nasty text message, accusing me of using him, and that he had feelings that were not to be toyed with. He went on to tell me how much of an asshole I was and how he couldn’t be expected to follow around after me like some well-trained dog. In my inebriated state I may or may not have sent a text back asking him “if you were though, what type of dog you would like to be.” This did not go down well as you could imagine and a whole lot of names came flying at me. I could have taken it lying down, (I was practically horizontal at that point in the night anyway) but suddenly all the hot-blooded womanly righteousness surged through my alcohol thinned veins. I gave him a slightly slurred, slightly ridiculous lecture about a woman’s rights and how he should learn to treat women with respect and all that nonsense. Not surprisingly, I heard nothing back, and so I continued with my night, only slightly ruffled by this annoying turn of events. Two hours later I was inadvertently grinding a bouncer at a nearby bar when my phone blipped at me again. Surprise surprise it was Jamesy boy. He begged for another chance and wanted to take me to a movie the next day (Which is ridiculous because I already had a date with my toilet bowl and there was no way I was missing that)
And so it was that I found a way to let a boy down. Turns out the way to do it is lots and lots of alcohol. And not just for you, it’s so much easier if he’s pissed off his nut as well. It was easy really, I just said I wasn’t interested and how he was lovely but I didn’t ever want to see him naked. He took it very well and as luck would have it, he went on to hook up with a rather lovely lady that night, who he is now married to with two kids. See how everything happens for a reason? I went home that night with a rather handsome looking kebab, and although we are not married today, he gave me a beautiful food baby.
Not bad for a first time eh? Oh and just so you know, we did not stay in touch, I just found out about the wife and baby through the glorious invention that is Facebook 😉
Well Lovers, I hope you’ve had an amazing weekend and you can spend your Monday morning reminiscing about that amazing guy you made out with, or at the very least the spectacular new drink you discovered. We’ll talk again soon!
Pick up line of the week: Is your Dad a terrorist? Cause you da bomb baby!