I’m sure all of us are all too familiar with the tale: it’s first year, first semester, you’re at the LCR, and you’ve most definitely had one too many blue VK’s. Girl sees boy, girl says two words to boy, and boy responds by falling on top of girl. It’s at that moment you conclude he’s everything you’ve been waiting for. With your blue tongue and his inability to stand-up straight, you are the perfect match. And so you drunkenly guide him back to your flat.
Much of the walk back I fail to remember, and after finishing a succession of (unfortunately) brief sexual activities, I immediately conk out. The next morning I wake, sprawled across the bed, alone. Fair enough. Until I see a glimmer of light reflecting off something on the floor. A pair of keys. Next to a wallet. Next to a pile of clothes. But boy, nowhere to be seen. The confusing events which escalated during my sleep, I let my flatmates fill me in on.
Picture the scene: I’m asleep, and he slips out my room to go to the toilet. Then, minutes later, my sweet, innocent flatmate Nicholas wakes to a strange naked guy spooning him. I tell no lies. Luckily, Nick is one of the most chill guys you are likely to meet, so he probably just said something like ‘yo, what’s up bro?’. To which, said guy realises that there is no longer a naked female lying next to him, but in fact a deeply confused male basketball player. Wrong room. Oops. The guy explains and Nick kindly redirects him to my room. Lovely Nick.
‘Thank fuck’, one-night stand guy must have thought. ‘I’ll just go back, and hopefully this can all be remembered as a terrible nightmare.’ But oh no, one-night stand man – those VKs weren’t done with you yet. Nick had directed the guy to the wrong door. Fortunately, the wise occupier of this room had thought to lock up. So by this point, I imagine him to be a tad distressed, and incredibly naked. The combination is not ideal. He resides to go back to Nick’s room, concluding that I locked him out, rather than figuring out it was the wrong room (this part I only found out two years later!). Nick then kindly lends him some boxers to walk home in. Bear in mind, this was the beginning of February and going outside was literally like stepping into a freezer. Tiny little needles in the skin. No shoes. No clothes. And probably very little pride to speak of.
Copyright – Keep your hands off this story, I’m writing it into a screenplay. Ta.