Now to sort of take up another suggestion from last Sunday's post when I looked for inspiration from you guys. This time a mixture of what Princess Pointful and Chapati suggested. I already kind of used my first kiss story up in this post, and I can't actually remember when I realised Santa Claus was only a myth, but something I CAN remember fairly acutely? The story of my boring breasticles . . .
I've mentioned my friend K before - the one who may or may not be living off a boyfriend's inheritance. ANYWAY, back about six years ago now, we'd got to know one another when we'd started together in the same training group at our job back then. Fairly early on, me and him and a couple of others from work had went for a drink one night, and when we left, we ran into K's flatmate . . . who, in the space of the short encounter, and under the haze of alcohol, seemed more than a little cute.
K told me later that his flatmate had liked me too, and the guy ended up joining us the next time a bunch of people from work were out. But somehow it just didn't happen between us. I'm not sure why exactly. I wasn't long out of a very short relationship that had ended pretty badly (which is a whole other story) and was a bit fucked up about the idea of getting remotely involved with anyone else, K's flatmate was a couple of years younger than me (although that bugged me less then than it does now) and I guess I just came over a bit shy and cold, the way I occasionally do if I like someone and know they like me.
Within a couple of weeks, K had moved on to setting the dude (we'll call him "A") up with our mutual new friend C, and they were going out. So I'd missed my chance obviously.
Of course, in typical fashion, that was around about the time when I started to like him again. You know the old adage about wanting what you can't have? Well, I am extremely bad for that. I rarely act on it but it IS an unfortunate quirk of mine.
A and C didn't stay together long. I can't remember how it ended, but it was over in a month or two and C was got together with another dude (who was far hotter, I might add!). At this point, I didn't know C very well (although she later became my first flatmate and is now one of my good friends) so I guess I still felt like A was fair game, rather than that dangerous untreadable ex territory. Although at the time of the break-up I wasn't thinking this - I'd moved on to fancying someone else by then. This was a couple of months later. When I'd snogged the other guy I fancied and . . . well, been let down by him too (Yet another story for another day, I guess!).
Which would have been the December of that year. K had said he and A were going to watch one of the Lord of the Rings films that had just came out (I think it was the second one) and I really wanted to see it too (yes, I'm a bit of a LOTR geek I'm afraid) so when he asked if I wanted to come along that night, I said yes. Unfortunately, it was booked up for that night, so K said did I want to come along to his flat instead and get drunk. He lived not far from where I live now, while I still lived at home with my parents, so I decided to go along, with the provisio that I could stay on his couch and go home the next day.
So we were all just sitting around, getting more drunk and chatting, when I decided to go to the toilet, which was downstairs in the flat. On my way back up, I ran into A, we had a little chat halfway up the stairs and then for some (drunken) reason I ended up showing him one of my boobs. No idea why but there you go - I do have a tendency to do stupid things while under the influence. He just looked a bit stunned and then turned around and went downstairs.
Not long after this, we ran out of alcohol, so somehow it fell to me and A to go to the shop before it closed to acquire more. We were just wandering along, arm in arm, randomly chatting on the way TO the shop. On the way back, we were still randomly chatting yet . . . we somehow ended up holding hands.
At this point, something seemed to shift between us. When we sat back down next to each other, on the same couch we'd been sitting together on all night, without any tension whatsoever . . . there was suddenly something there. As the four of us sat and chatted, he surreptitiously slid his arm around me. Low down, just above my hip, so none of the others could see. (Or so I thought, anyway!) I suddenly felt really excited, and nervous and attracted to him, all at once. From the way his hand was lightly tracing my back and sliding up and down the contours of my body, I knew that SOMETHING was going to happen between us. I just wasn't sure WHAT yet!
Eventually the others made their excuses and headed to bed and we were alone together. By this point, I felt completely on edge, I was so overcome by nerves. Practically the second K left the room, A pounced on me. He was a great kisser. This didn't surprise me, as C had told us this. In fact, so had K (apparently they had snogged each other once when they were both drunk. Really, this should have set alarm bells off a long time ago!)
I realise this post was a bit of a long build-up for what is essentially about to be an anti-climax. But that's kind of the point. Don't worry - it's hopefully worth it . . .
We weren't long into the kissing when A decided to head a bit further south . . . Breastland, to be precise. I was sitting on the couch, enjoying the attention he was paying to them when . . . suddenly, nothing. There was no activity going on at all anymore. Within a matter of seconds, I established the truth . . .
He had fallen asleep!!!
I was infuriated, but didn't want to wake him up as I didn't want to admit that apparently my boobs had put him to sleep!!! He had basically fallen asleep on top of them, so I had to try and fall asleep in a sitting position with a guy lying on top of my chest. Niiiicccceee.
I suppose, when I re-tell the story, I see the funny side to the whole thing, but I haven't got the most humiliating part yet.
Because that would be the night, approximately a month later, when all my insecurities came rushing out in one drunken rant, and I chased A around and around the statue in Royal Exchange Square - while my friends laughed their heads off - yelling "Were my boobs THAT boring????"
After that night, we didn't really speak much.