Medics know how to party.
With full knowledge of this I went on a medic social with the hope I would have something to write about in this week’s column.
I walked into the Union in my pink boots and was immediately centre of attention.
I was an unfamiliar face amongst hundreds of medics and this seemed to be working against me.
At this point I knew I was the one going to have to make the first move so my fag hag and I started circling the room.
I caught one guy’s attention straight away and we started dancing. Success!
I didn’t see him again until we were queuing for a kebab at the end of the night at which point I knew it was now or never.
I shamelessly ran up to him and invited him back to an ‘afterparty’ at mine which consisted of just me and him and it was all going well until the bedroom.
I realised I had hardly anything to drink all night so my worst nightmare was about to come true: sober sex.
He drunkenly got undressed and we fumbled around in the dark until he pulled out a condom but he wasn’t getting it that easily, I was going to make him work for it.
After a lot of teasing I finally gave in and the deed took place.
The next morning we were both in the same mood as the night before and after a lot of sex and general conversation we just lay there in silence.
Absolute bliss until he dropped the bombshell that he had a boyfriend.
So this week’s lesson is: do not go out looking for sex, wait for it to come and find you. Otherwise karma may just come and bite you on the bum, literally.
Monsieur Derriere