I learned all too painfully last night.
I was out on a date
with this girl I really like, a classy bird
by all accounts. Things are going nicely, we're in a late bar after visiting a rake of pubs on Georges St
. and Dame St
. in Dublin
Everything is going really well, I'm working my stuff
, trying my little heart out. Two o' clock rolls around and by this stage we are both fairly hammered
So, I casually invite her up to my apartment for a cup of tea
and a cheeky spliff
, which she accepts.
So, we're in my apartment
, quite stoned
by now and things start to get a bit heavy
. I suggest moving into the bedroom
, which she is cool with, remembering only when I open the door, that my room actually resembles a council rubbish tip
I am so lazy, I still had pictures of my ex
stuck on the wall, as well as a framed picture
of her too, that I just totally forgot was there.
Also, scattered around the room, were various items of overwear
and smatterings of pornography
and other boyish stuff.
Needless to say, I was denied my wicked way
with this lovely girl
, soley, because of the state of my shit hole bedroom.
She was, to say the least, not impressed.