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It's only semi autobiographical
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    • Tuesday, October 19, 2004

    Continuing the story... After discovering the secrets of the sofa bed (you have to pull it in a counter intuitive place) and spending the night comfortably wrapped in a pink sleeping bag, we began to plan the evening pub crawl. I say we, Caitlin spent 2 hours on the phone and got a god number of people to come, including our old friend Tim. We had a couple of drinks in Pub Ox (mwahaha, yes I abbreviated your pub name after only visiting once!) We there discussed maths and philosophy for all of 5 seconds and moved on. The other pubs were uneventful, until we made our way to Bar Baby, which, well. Well it had a pole. For pole dancing.

    There was some wine consumed, lets just say more than could be measured on the fingers of an entire brass band.

    So a deal was struck, like for like, I poledanced with Ben, and two lovely girls would do the same for us. I will not name them, mainly because Caitlin still scares me into obedience. That bit is not interesting anyway... really. What is marginally interesting is that we found a second pole upstairs (some kind of support pole I think) which we decided to practice on, stopping every time someone passed to exchange comments like "So those fast cars eh?" or "Did you see the tits on that bird?" to retain our masculinity. There was also a painful moment which I still have not fully recovered from in which a fairly sensitive part of my anatomy was crushed against the pole. I do not want to discuss that.

    Anyway long story short, Ben got a bit of pulling in, which was disrupted by the chant "...Get a room, get a room, get a room..." and we retired to the house, where my hair was forcibly cut.

    I was a little worried at first, after all I was being held down to the sofa between one girls legs, while the other leant over me and cut my hair to fall into an ice cream pot. I then decided that there are far worse ways of having a hair cut, and relaxed, to enjoy both the view and my seat. Well, can you blame me?

    Anyway, that was Saturday. Well, almost, at one point I was called to the stairs after asking what all the noise upstairs was, and then was attacked by falling water. I got quite damp eventually, and was forced to get into the shower room to dry, then sneak downstairs to get into bed, which only caused mild awkwardness with Ben.

    More tomorrow...
    Posted by: Complex / 1:58 pm
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