#189

I went out one evening with #187, back when I was oblivious to her crush on me (“she is still so not getting off with me”, I frequently observed, whilst failing to make any move whatsoever). We were drinking with a few others: a mutual friend, who we’ll call Tony, and two boys I hadn’t met before, who we’ll call Dan and #189. I drank a great deal of gin. Tony, hitherto wrongly filed in my head as a sensible person, told lots of scandalous stories, my favourite one being about the night he spent in the cells after dressing up as Myra Hindley and letting off fireworks from his window. #187 eventually went home, and the rest of us moved on to Nicol Edwards, where Acoustic David was playing downstairs. I’d never seen him before and had low expectations, but hell yes he was entertaining. Plus Tony won 15 free drinks in a raffle, which was clearly not a smart thing to happen.

When the place closed at 3am a weird girl swapped hats with Dan. He was now wearing some sort of elaborate chicken hat, and we had to hang around at great length while he negotiated for his own hat’s safe return. I made out with #189 and then he made us all wear cardboard boxes. This was fun for a while and then I was done with it. We walked homeward and #189 kept singing “We’ve got five thousand dollars” until it started to grate. We crossed an empty road using the pedestrian crossing and a pair of police officers looked on while Tony tiptoed along in his cardboard box proclaiming “They’ll never recognise me!” Before going back to Tony’s place, where he was crashing while in Edinburgh, #189 finally took his fucking box off and made out with me in the passageway. After a while I made my exit and walked home to the sound of birdsong and somehow it was 5am.

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~ by Nine on 8 January 2010.

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