Would you like a side of sex with that?

At a recent friends birthday party, I happened upon his attractive friend. There was instant chemistry, mainly assisted by a roaring fire and copious amounts of alcohol. After a good half an hour flirt, he asked me to the bar. My rubber arm didn’t require much twisting.

Once there however, the night went from normal to strange very quickly: Alice fell down the rabbit hole. He offered me a sample of the illicit drugs he’d been toting around. Now I’m no angel but I also don’t accept MDMA caps from someone who is essentially a complete stranger. However I decided to run with it and let him pour it in my glass of chardie: which I promptly proceeded to pour down the sink of the nearest women’s bathroom without taking a sip.

I’ve since learnt that being high and pretending to be high are two completely different kettle of fish. I don’t think I’ll be winning an Oscar for portrayal of a drug addict anytime soon. I had no idea how someone on caps is supposed to act but I obviously wasn’t doing it. Within a few hours I was blatantly boozed while my tall, handsome drug-dealing pash was clearly off chops.

The birthday party moved back to an apartment in the inner city and before long I was kissing the mysterious stranger. Kissing, and yawning. It was, after all, almost 3 in the morning and I’m not known for my stamina. My wannabe lover enquired as to whether the effects had ‘worn off’, having no idea that they’d never kicked in! He was still clearly relishing the effects of the chemical reactions while I was on my way to the Land of Nod. Not ideal. After a couple of minutes he promptly stood up off the couch and declared that he was leaving to go back out. I had no issues with that, clearly myself wanting to make a dash for the door and my bed some few blocks away. Preferably alone. He walked to the door of the apartment before turning and somewhat dramatically returning to my side where he ever so politely enquired:

Did you want to have sex?

Not your normal invitation. I think he was just trying his luck, of which he didn’t have much. Needless to say he didn’t get lucky that night but I did have a giggle the next morning relaying his proposition to my girlfriends.

That was until I got a text at 8 am asking if I’d care to drop round to his place.

He might have been ridiculous, but least he was a gentleman.

Drunk in love

“Basic Space” – the XX

Love a good set up. Normally I am on the receiving end of same, being one of a handful of single ladies in my social circle. However last weekend I played match maker myself. Just to try out how the other half live. Not that I had my work cut out for me: she’s a babe and he’s a bit of ladies man. Match made in artificially manufactured heaven.

Have I mentioned he’s a colleague? No, well that’s kind of crucial to the story. Daily interaction. Forced daily interaction.

First encounter was easy enough. She walked in the pub and he went “woah”. Not much I had to do to convince him. Her on the other hand was a bit trickier but I soon realised I had a God given and rarely used talent for finding other people dates. Shame about myself.

All went pretty textbook that evening thereafter. Boy buys drinks. Girl bats eyelahes. Before long I’m crow barring them apart.

Did I mention she’s my flatmate? Also crucial to the story and probably the reason I didn’t try my hand at match making earlier.

The clincher was waking the next weekend to find my colleague, clad in little more than a loin cloth, in my lounge room. To his credit he was endlessly entertaining and didn’t make me feel like a third wheel. Which is generous considering some hours prior I had been the worlds best wing woman and made small talk with several less than eligible bachelors while they pashed on.

After several days of relaying coy and not so subtle messages back and forth I was relieved when he finally got the figurative balls to ask for her number.

Lesson in all this totes awkes encounters? Set up people you don’t have to see every waking hour (and hear every hour allocated for sleep).

Reow. Sexy tune.

She’s up all night ’til the sun
I’m up all night to get some
She’s up all night for good fun
I’m up all night to get lucky

We’re up all night ’til the sun
We’re up all night to get some
We’re up all night for good fun
We’re up all night to get lucky

We’re up all night to get lucky
We’re up all night to get lucky
We’re up all night to get lucky
We’re up all night to get lucky

Alcohol. Lubricating dating since moonshine.

Drink and date responsibly all.

“Cheers to the freakin weekend”, Rihanna