Only Lovers Left Alive

While I can’t possibly top Tippler, I too have many humiliating sexual experiences to choose from. Should I share The One Where I Vomited? The One Where The Bed Broke? The One Where I Realised My Body Was Less Curious Than My Mind When it Came to Lesbianism? Or The One Where The Man From The Caravan Shone a Torch on Us?

No.

Instead, I’ll tell you about The One With The Mother.

I was 21. He was 22. We had been together for almost a year. We didn’t officially live together, but we pretty much did. His parents had seen my toothbrush in his bathroom, and my pants upon his bedroom floor. But despite this, they refused to accept their little boy was At It. And so, when I went to spend a week with them in the Christmas holidays, it was on the condition that we slept in separate rooms. On previous weekend visits, we’d held off. But a week is a long time when it comes to young love.

Hogmany dawned. There was a plan. We would travel from their home in the suburbs to a friend’s house in Edinburgh, see in the new year in a club, and then stay overnight. Together at last. But nothing ever goes to plan, and by mid-day I was feeling most unwell. My visits to the toilet were very frequent and fairly unpleasant. Fortunately they had two bathrooms. But ever the trooper, I put on my frock and my fake fur and we set off into the night. I didn’t feel much better. So we decided not to stay over - there are strange bathrooms and there are strangers’ bathrooms. We saw the new year in, and caught a night bus back.

His parents were at a party too, and after some tea and toast, I felt more human. Well enough to say happy new year in a special way. I’ll skip the gory details, but things got fairly heated. The bedroom I was staying in for my visit was on the ground floor of the house. At some stage, unknown to us, His parents returned. And at a crucial point, just as things were getting rather vocal, His mother burst into the room. It took us a few moments to register. Her face registered nothing but disgust. She stared at us. Then said “I am VERY disappointed in you both.” And left. It later transpired that she’d heard the bedroom noise, thought I was being ill and popped in to check.

I shudder to think what I sound like in the sack.

Needless to say, we were both pretty ashamed. Not to mention ticked off at being caught short, so to speak. Breakfast the next morning was a sombre affair. The second of January is a public holiday in Scotland, meaning I couldn’t escape until the third. I have never been so pleased to drink shit coffee in Waverley station in my whole life.

We were together for about a year after that. His parents were always pleasant enough, but I somehow felt sadly diminished in their eyes.

Only Lovers Left Alive - The Long Blondes

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[penfold]

There's nothing quite as arousing as a woman that sounds like she's losing her lunch...

[Cat]

And I wonder why I'm single...