I met Lara in the Coach and Horses in Soho. She had short hair, a sandpapery Northern accent and a chip on her shoulder. At 36 she was 9 years older than me-a definite plus point.
She was clearly extremely nervous, and said she didn’t have many friends in London after moving down on a whim a couple of years ago. She expressed this nervousness by nailing 3 pints of Old Rosie cider (7.3%) in the first hour, after which she was dragging me up Greek Street shouting “can we just go somewhere and go and dance to the worst, cheesiest music on the planet?”
I told her I didn’t fancy G.A.Y. and that seeing as it was only 7 it wouldn’t be open for a few hours.
We ended up in the Blue Post. Turns out she’s a bit of a leftie, works in social housing and three pints later she was shouting something at me about Middlesbrough factory closures, and telling me how she hasn’t made a difference. Around this point I started texting another girl to see what she was doing.:
The other girl was busy so I stuck it out with Lara, despite her actually being a less nice person than me and her harping on about her sore neck. Three times I heard the story how she started to get pains down her left arm which freaked her out but was as a result of a slipped disc, or something like that.
Turns out she’s a bit of a leftie, works in social housing and three pints later she was shouting something at me about Middlesbrough factory closures
The elevens approached; she’d hit the diet cokes and I’d was on my fifth tequila. I really wasn’t bothered if she came back to mine or not, the thought of an episode of Alan Carr and a bottle of red rather appealed. Lara asked what I was doing and I stayed ambivalent , saying that I might be meeting other people (I had texted the other girl again in the interim). She looked a bit hurt and I felt the unfamiliar pull of guilt, so told her I’d stick with her (which I fully intended to do, unless the other girls’ date ended up as bad as mine).
Anyway, she suggested coming to mine; we got back she started with some nonsense about us not fucking. That didn’t last long, and just after I entered her she said: “Can I add a bit of pressure to the situation and say I haven’t done this in two years?”
The sex was good, her tits are fantastic; her best quality by some stretch. Plump and pumped like two size 3 footballs. I complimented her on them immediately, if “wow, I really didn’t expect that” counts as a compliment.
The piece de resistance: Afterwards we were milling around in bed having a smoke, and having a nice chat. I liked her more then than I had done for the last 9 hours. She started with some nonsense about the sex making things difficult in terms of us being pals, even though this was the first time we’d met. At the time I was betrothed (but not actually in a relationship) with a girl who had been away travelling and was due home soon.
She totally flipped out; we woke my flatmate up with our arguing (which doesn’t say a lot for the sex)
I said, in one way or another, “well, I’ve got a girl coming back in two weeks so don’t worry about anything from my side.” She totally flipped out; we woke my flatmate up with our arguing (which doesn’t say a lot for the sex). After a while it transpired she was annoyed that I didn’t see anything more in this than sex even though, for once, I really hadn’t been pushing the issue; she referred to herself as ‘a bit on the side’ even though I made it absolutely clear that I wasn’t in a relationship with the girl at the time, per se. Which was true.
She started putting on her clothes to leave, I told her to stop being silly, and that it was 3am. Despite myself I apologised very nicely, simply to quell the situation. 5 minutes later she said “I can’t stay in here with you now” and went to sleep on the couch with some bedding I pulled out of my cupboard for her. To be totally honest I was pleased of the extra space.
10 minutes later she came back moaning about it hurting her neck. I didn’t offer any sympathy, nor offer her a space in the bed. She left and the next day I got an apology on Facebook, asking if we could meet up again.
This article first appeared on Sabotage Times, which you can find here