Waking up in a strange bed is pretty standard when you’re traveling. I basically do it every day. Waking up in a strange bed with someone else in it though is pretty decent. Unless of course you’ve been off your head the night before and turn to stare aghast at the behemoth you’re lying next to up, and you beat a hasty retreat as silently as you can, hoping she doesn’t wake to see you sprinting down the street. Yes it has happened.
Not the case here, which is nice, and she’s not told me to get out so I’m doing something right. Still, the football calls once more, and before long we’ve found a decent Irish bar and once again we’re tackling heavy pints of dark ale among ex pat, English banker ‘ya’s” and a crazy ex SWAT team Chilean who for some reason eats Paddy’s paper napkin chicken. Before long the heavy stout has totally gone to my head induced both by the England win and me throwing it down my neck, and I’ve managed to message my date to postpone our arranged cinema meeting. I basically wouldn’t make a decent husband because I’d just be saucing it in the pub with my mates and casually tell the wife I wasn’t going to make the dinner. She seems ok about it, but if a girl I wanted to see turns up at my house a couple of hours later at the early-ish time of 8pm and the passes out on my bed I’d be raging. She wasn’t. I wake up fully clothed sometime later.
More football booze
Waking up in a strange bed is pretty standard when you’re traveling. I basically do it every day. Waking up in a strange bed with someone else in it though is pretty decent. Unless of course you’ve been off your head the night before and turn to stare aghast at the behemoth you’re lying next to up, and you beat a hasty retreat as silently as you can, hoping she doesn’t wake to see you sprinting down the street. Yes it has happened.
Not the case here, which is nice, and she’s not told me to get out so I’m doing something right. Still, the football calls once more, and before long we’ve found a decent Irish bar and once again we’re tackling heavy pints of dark ale among ex pat, English banker ‘ya’s” and a crazy ex SWAT team Chilean who for some reason eats Paddy’s paper napkin chicken. Before long the heavy stout has totally gone to my head induced both by the England win and me throwing it down my neck, and I’ve managed to message my date to postpone our arranged cinema meeting. I basically wouldn’t make a decent husband because I’d just be saucing it in the pub with my mates and casually tell the wife I wasn’t going to make the dinner. She seems ok about it, but if a girl I wanted to see turns up at my house a couple of hours later at the early-ish time of 8pm and the passes out on my bed I’d be raging. She wasn’t. I wake up fully clothed sometime later.