Guest Blog: Everyone I've Ever F*cked.
#2: Brian - Cheap and Nasty
I can't even remember this young rake's name. Dancing at a nightclub in Gloucester (quote of the evening from my first openly gay male friend, Fashion Victim: "I'm a trained dancer, and so I have ways of responding to such dire music; but I can see that you're finding it difficult, dear.")
This was a short, plump, gingery Brian, whom I barely knew. A man in dungarees, for heaven's sake. Smashed out of my brains and feeling rebellious about the wayward Byron, who at that point persisted in snogging mental defectives then regaling me with the gory details, I decided to wreak my awful revenge by tawdry smutty bad sex in a nightclub with a chap I did not find the least bit appealing, nor would I ever want to see again. Come on girls, I know you've done it. Drunk enough to lose all sense of perspective, I completely failed to notice, amongst the artillery fire of disco lights and awful, predictable bombardment of 'YMCA', my location. I'd selected the open stage of the nightclub upon which to portray the destruction of reputation, honour and self-esteem.
Blase the next day, I had refreshingly little memory of the episode. Not for long, when at least sixteen people expressed how horrified my low morals had made them. The quiet, mousy, literary type no more.
Posted by Clytemnestra, as part of the Twelve Guest Blogs of Christmas