The Cock Blocker

The night was awesome. Really awesome.

Dear male friend was on a stage for the first time in years, and I decided I could live vicariously through him for those 2 minutes and 45 seconds. I was even put on a guest list, cause I'm so fabulous and all.


The first band blew me away! Dear Male Friend didn't like the previous show of theirs we were at, and we left the club at 00:30. Yes, that's 00:30 on a Saturday night. Now, this blogger's hormones had been raging for well over a month, but we left and I took Dear Male Friend home, no problem, without having tried out any of my (very original) pick up lines.


Should Dear Male Friend and The Accomplice have advised, earlier in the evening, that they were hunting for a piece of ass (which, NOTE, I have no problem with) I would have made my own arrangements.


But first things first, we proceeded to the club (which was awesome), hooked up with "The Coolest Flatmates Ever" and a few pirates, all was going well. Then we watched the great apes. Who ROCKED!


Since hormones have been raging for a while, I decided to take Female half of The Coolest Flatmates Ever's advice, and just go talk to the guitarist who seemed single. Had a pick up line and EVERYTHING. Didn't work out, but then he was already quite inebriated. Had a chat, but I'm pretty sure I made absolutely no impression. But hey, that's the way the dice fell for me that night. Dear Male Friend and Accomplice would have you believe that they sat there, waiting in case something happened for me. Uhm... they were chatting to said LMG Awesome Dude. And each other... 


But I'm getting ahead of myself.


So after trying (and failing) to chat up someone 8 years my junior, The Coolest Flatmates Ever announced they were drunk and leaving. They even asked if I wanted to come home with them. I considered this, strongly. Despite having consumed quite an amount of alcohol, I still felt completely sober and felt like dancing. Enter Dear Male Friend and Accomplice, advising we should go to the Shack. For... ONE!!!! beer. This was at 2:30 on a Sunday morning.


I decided to go for the ONE!!!!! beer, and declined The Coolest Flatmates Ever's invitation.


We walked to the Shack, I actually jogged a few metres in my Gladiator sandals, as the evening was getting a little chilly, and I had planned to shake this bootie all night and therefore had no warm top. We arrive at the Shack. Its my round. All good. Dear Male Friend and Accomplice start chatting to the "cuties". One didn't make that much of an impression on me, accept for the nasal voice complaining about an ex (I think) to The Accomplice, while miss "I had a fight with a rivet gun" and Dear Male Friend proceeded to chat.


And there is RoseThorn. On a bench. Freezing. Actually shivering. And with no-one to chat to. Staring into space.


I suffered this in silence for approximately 45 minutes, struggling to keep my eyes open. Decided to try sitting inside at one of the tables, at least it would be warmer there. Proceeded to fall asleep at table and probably looked like the drunkest chick in the joint - still no-one tried their luck, still NO conversation with anyone. No dance floors, I would even have danced to fricking DISCO!!! to stay awake.


Went next door to Mercury, who had closed their doors, as it was now 3:45 on a Sunday morning.


Walked back to Dear Male Friend and Accomplice, told them I'm tired and would like to leave, to be told, "We will just finish this beer". I relented and sat back down, freezing my Not-so-tiny-ass off. They were in luck, I was happy for them. Would have taken the chicks home and recorded the videos for them if they asked.


In a last ditch attempt to stay awake, I deleted old smses off my cellphone. Yes - I was THAT bored.
And then.... The ACCOMPLICE walks out with another round of beers, laughing! Saying, "The bar man tripped and put these in my hands." And that was when I lost it.


Footstomping and clenched-teeth-speaking ensued. I was livid. I considered phoning The Ex (yes, that late at night) to ask if I could crash on his couch - it was walking distance. The Coolest Flatmates Ever would not have answered their phones at this time, I felt sure they were dead to the world. Mentioned to Dear Male Friend and Accomplice that I would take a taxi home, alone, when they come home they can phone me to wake me up, which was met with a loud protestation of "No, we'll go now, (insert nickname)" 


I was past believing this to be truth.


And of course, I have been hearing the name calling since Sunday morning, The Accomplice and Dear Male
Friend lamenting the fact that they did not wake up with "The too (two) young chicks" and thanking me, sarcastically. I've been taking it in my stride, though.


So, there is my side of the story. For what its worth, I would have slept in the fricking bathtub that night if they could have gotten lucky. But note to self, when a buddy finally rediscovers their libido after a break up, go our in your own car and DO NOT offer to be the designated driver. 


It could be a VERY late night with nothing but annoyance in it for you!