You know when you have one of those afternoons that turns in to a random night out? The “lets have a quiet couple in the sun” moments that suddenly turn in to “You’re closing? How is it 3am already?!” kind of nights?

My friend and I had been at a BBQ that afternoon and decided that even though we had been drinking all day, we definitely needed to continue. So naturally we headed in to town for a few more drinks. I’ll be honest, some of the details are pretty blurry, but I’m pretty sure a few drinks turned in to many drinks, as before we knew it the lights were up and we were being ushered out of a club.

Now, bearing in mind I’d just spent the afternoon surrounded by couples or listening to stories of dates and crushes, I was feeling in need of a little male attention. And although I’m pretty sure the guy that approaches you just as the club is closing is probably not the best guy to be leaving with, my lonely drunken state led me to believe otherwise.

So here I am, on the curb outside, talking to this adorable Irish guy trying to convince him that I’m a good girl and that we should just exchange numbers and meet up another time rather than jumping in a taxi together. Or maybe I was trying to convince myself? Anyway, it turns out he was just visiting a friend for the weekend and would be flying home the following night, so this was a one time only offer. I don’t think I needed much convincing after the amount of cider and rum I’d consumed, but he was trying his best nonetheless. And did I mention he kept calling me a dote? “You’re such a wee dote”. I had no idea what it meant but it turned me all shades of pink anyway. And those baby blue eyes…how could I resist?!

Just to add, I now know that ‘a dote’ is someone that’s cute. Well shucks! It could also be possible that he was calling me a dolt…but I’m going to believe the former and move on.

So there I was, in the back of a taxi with 5 Irish guys on the way to…well, I had no idea where I was going. Then the taxi pulled over unexpectedly and out jumped the guy that actually owned the house we were supposed to be going to. I think he was going to meet a girl or something but to be honest I wasn’t really paying attention. By the way, I get that this is the point where I also should’ve jumped out, but no, I stayed in the taxi with 4 men I didn’t know heading who knows where in a state where I probably needed some kind of adult supervision. Just one of the many genius moments I’ve had in my time…

Once we got to the house, I had to put up with a bit of jeering and banter from the other guys before I was lead upstairs to the spare room, which the others had kindly let Mr Blue Eyes have to himself due to the circumstances. Such gents. Now how I got up those stairs is still a mystery to me – steps are a challenge for me at the best of times – but as I seemed to remain bruise free I’m going to presume I managed it with some form of grace and dignity. Anyway, there we are in the bedroom, getting to know each other a bit better. And what do you really want when you’re “getting to know” a man? His mates knocking on the door and popping their heads in to cheer you on. Love it. What makes it even better is when said man, or boy really, is then putting up a struggle against using a condom. Why the hell wouldn’t someone want to cover their limb before they swim? Especially in unknown waters?! It’s worrying that it took so long to set them off, but finally the warning bells were ringing, and I suddenly felt surprisingly sober. So, being a lady and all that, I thought I should subtly take my leave without offending him. Or provoking some kind of negative reaction of course. And how did I manage that, you ask? Well, by saying I was popping to the loo whilst grabbing all my stuff and making a run for the front door. How else?!

Why are you putting your clothes on to go the toilet?

So your friends don’t see me in my underwear.

And you need your handbag for that?

Girls always take their handbags everywhere.

And your shoes…?

Well I don’t know what state the bathroom floor is in….

And then he was snoring.

Which was followed swiftly by the sound of me running down the stairs (again, without incident) and the front door shutting behind me. Phew!

But as I sighed in relief, it suddenly dawned on me that it was 5 o’clock in the morning and I had no idea where I was. Shit. As I’m wandering along wondering what the hell I’m going to do, I just happen to bump in to the guy that jumped out of the taxi earlier. Busted! He just laughed at me and asked me if I was alright and knew where I was.

Yeah it’s cool, I’m good thanks.

Maybe I should have mentioned the emerging feelings of impending doom. Or the colossal freak out that I was about to have if I didn’t figure out where on earth I was. But I’m far too polite for that.

Luckily, as I got to the end of the road, I started to recognise where I was, and even luckier for me it was only a short walk from my house. And now I had relaxed a bit, I was able to enjoy my wee dander home whilst the birds were singing and the sun was rising, with only one thought to ponder as I walked;

Damnit….what was his name?!

L xo