Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Friday night had to be a good one

It had been a long week - all those early mornings are tough on a night owl - so I was ready to let my hair down. H was popping round to drop off some 'smarties' and it was going to be one of those rare Friday nights when Mike would be out.

In some strange celebration of the night that was yet to be, I finished most of a bottle of red wine with my meal. Never a clever thing to do but sometimes these things happen.

Just before I left the flat, D rang to find out what I'd be doing. I didn't really feel like seeing him right away so I made some excuses but told him I'd be out and about much later on and that he should contact me then if he still wanted to meet up. I met A at the Lord Roberts and we had a few pints of Stella before Mike arrived, quite a bit earlier than expected.

We eventually went to the club.

I remember arriving there and I remember spending time talking to Mike and A. I also remember talking to several other friends but there's a huge chunk of the night that's a complete blank. Although I later discovered that the smarties weren't very strong, 'double-dropping' them on top of all that alcohol had a predictable effect.

I don't remember leaving the club.

So waking up at about 10 the next morning with my arm around a man was all a bit of a surprise. He was turned away from me so I couldn't see his face which would have helped the recollection process. I must have met up with D after all.

Being horny, I began to run my hand over him.

He stirred slightly but there wasn't much life in him. My befuddled brain noticed something was different - he didn't feel as lean and defined as I was used to. My hand went lower and before long there was life in his groin even if none anywhere else. That's odd, he feels smaller than I remember. Not massively smaller but definitely smaller! Jeez, my brain is playing tricks on me! Or maybe it played tricks on me before?

Although very eager for it, I gave up trying to get a proper response from him. I carried on lying there with my arm around him thinking about how one's brain is an odd, deceitful organ. I kept trying to remember when I'd met up with D and how we'd got back to my place without my having any knowledge of it.

Yes, I know what you're thinking but hold that thought.

What I've neglected to mention so far is that D is black. I don't know too many black men here in Nottingham and the man in my bed was black. In fact, I only know one, D. I eventually got up to go to the toilet. On my return, I saw my bed-partner's face for the first time.

It wasn't D!

He wasn't a total stranger either. I'd met J before, about 2 year's ago in London where he lives and spent the night with him (an interesting night!) and seen him twice since then in Nottingham as he has a house here that he rents out. Once I'd realised who it was, chunks of the night began to return. I still don't remember seeing him at the club or arriving at my flat with him.

But many of the best parts of the night definitely returned!


Blogger Miss Mish said...

Oh you tart....

12:12 pm  
Blogger Reluctant Nomad said...

*blush* mois?

12:21 pm  
Blogger ChittyChittyBangBang! said...

Wowzers... I am bloody speechless! Alan, you horn-dog, you.
I remember having a few of those when I was "uninvolved". Waking up in bed with girls I had no recollection of ever meeeting. Yikes!!! Not the most pleasant thing to wake up to.
My life now pales in comparison.. hehehe. Well... at least you knew who he was. :)

1:50 pm  
Blogger Reluctant Nomad said...

I've had friends ring me up the day after the night before asking me, in hushed tones, if I knew the name of the guy they'd gone home with. Obviously, I usually don't but I always suggest that they look around for envelopes or suchlike that may have the guy's name. It's amazing how often that solves the problem!

4:44 pm  
Blogger jjd said...

haha. I knew this story was going to be good when you started with the "I remember arriving.. I remember spending time talking.."


um, whats a smartie? me no understandy.

anyway, like another commentor said, at least it wasn't a TOTAL stranger!

7:58 pm  
Blogger Reluctant Nomad said...

Smarties are sweets (candy) made from small, flattish , circular rounds of chocolate covered in a sugar shell. They come in different colours.

Here it's used as a euphemism for an ecstacy pill.

So, tell me, what's wrong with going home with TOTAL strangers? That's how I make 'friends'! :-)

8:09 pm  
Blogger dom said...

The power of Stella LOL ! That's why I steer clear of it nowadays... NO I did not grope a male stranger, but I've awoken in many a strange place.
I'll pretend I left you a Union Jack even though the numpties at AOL make me seem American.Good start to your flag collection :)

10:08 pm  
Blogger Reluctant Nomad said...

Stella aka Wife Beater! :-)

10:20 pm  
Blogger kyknoord said...

Nothing worse than forgetting the good bits. At least those returned.

8:51 am  
Blogger mike said...

Oh, if only I had the indiscretion to repeat your Quote Of The Night!

12:23 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Nice flags! I'll keep coming back until USA overtakes the UK flags, mwahahahaha. :) I love the pictures on your site! absolutely beautiful!

3:22 pm  
Blogger Reluctant Nomad said...

mike: you have been known to be indiscreet before! :-) anyway, if anyone with the smallest knowledge of putting two and two together were to connect our blogs together for entries posted near to each other, they'd work out what that quote was.

debbie: the US did overtake the UK for a short while - currently they seem to be neck and neck in the race for top position.

glad you like the pics.

3:43 pm  

Post a Comment

<< Home