Stories
TheWorm sleeps with a doity whore - Brought to you by James Wormald -
The story begins as most leedsmeup stories begin, us drinking ourselves stupid. The only real difference between an event and a story is pictures. My story is set at an event that was held in the short, depressing time which leedsmeup.com lay dormant. Quiescent but simply resting, awaiting our dramatic return.
Some of you may have heard of the event. The day, love them or hate them, belongs to the Australians of this country. Australia day is the 29th January (The day in which those murderous raping bastards freed themselves from their fully deserving country’s British reign) I had been informed of the day (As well as the coincidental celebrations at the Australian bar ‘Walkabout’) by many Australian barmaids, working there at the time.
Having been acting in a mildly flirtatious manner at the fore mentioned parte, this adding to one of the (shall we say) better-looking barmaids acting in same manner, I was hoping to get a phone number by the end of the evening. For anyone who knows me (Lets not kid ourselves, everyone who reads this) this hope was extremely optimistic. But fuck it, I was confident. It was new, weird, and I liked it!
Upon arrival to the ‘Walkabout’ bar, I was a little disappointed to learn that my (then) favourite barmaid was working. Therefore I would have to wait until things had died down a little before I ‘worked my charms’ as it were.
Unfortunately due to the fact that the drinks were incredibly cheap, by the time she did finish work and come out shooting (Schnapps), I was far too drunk to speak. This left me in an incredible dilemma. I started the night, assuring myself of scoring in one form or another. I’m still in that mindset, and if I go home empty-handed I’ll have lost the war. However what seemed like my best chance of pulling at the start of the night, is now getting less and less likely. Because it’s becoming more and more apparent that I wont be able to get anywhere by just smiling and trying not to throw up in her cleavage.
Add to this, the departure of my two best wingmen Youd and Gazz. It’s not much but hey, if Oli’s not available, who is? Gazz had been gone 20 minutes by the time Youd decided he wanted to navigate his way through the labyrinth that is Creation (Only Labyrinth had good music). I was gonna meet Youd in Creation, however this would be admitting defeat. I may not have achieved the result I was looking for, so it felt nice to spend a pitiful 10 minutes alone at the bar, nursing a Shrek.
Once Youd had been refused entry to Creation for falling through the entrance, I was truly alone.
With Youd’s full departure unbeknownst to me, I stood alone at the bar oblivious of the horrors, which lay before me. Don’t ask me when, or how it happened because I don’t know. But a girl started talking to me, I could just about make out her face. The only parts of the conversation I recall were:
Her: Do you want to come back to mine?
Me: Sure, why not?
Her: We’re not gonna have sex!
Me: Believe me my dear, I wouldn’t dream of it.
The next words I recall being conversed were the next morning:
Me: So… What’s your name?