Junior disco

Evening gents.

First up, an apology. I apologise for the delay in this blog coming out for the second week running. I'd love to say it's because I have been in a drunken daze-it's not, I have been busy with work which is the one thing holding me back at the moment.

Start things off with last Wednesday. Was walking through town after work picking up some food, and bump into the 30 year old from a few weeks ago. Awkward. Anyway, out of politeness, and not really having too much else to say, I ask her for a drink. An interesting call. She has a fairly shocked look on her face, and begrudgingly says yes. We are obviously both really upset about the issue. I've made things terribly awkward. Basically end up necking my pint as she is very dry and wandering on home. At one point, I even choose the weather as a conversation. However, this is not as bad as the coalition government, which my friend Bruce tends to use as a chat up line. For a full version of this, I refer you to his blog. I should have tried harder to get the growl in, but just really was happy to get out of the situation I put myself in.

Thursday, and my boss is coming round for the evening. I am getting bored of her now. She does my head in a little, and having her there has eliminated the fear of having no sex, that drives my instinct to get laid. Having said that, we are now at the stage of when the sex starts to get really good. She's been floating the idea of anal about, and has started making me really spank her hard when I've got her from behind. One time she even made me pull her hair. I enjoy this kind of act immensely, you are there really putting your boss in her place, and the next day she has you writing reports. I love it when it comes out in her accent too. It makes me feel like a proper porn star. But on Thursday I got massively carried away. Getting her from behind, one hand pulling her hair, the other letting rip on her arse, I look down and see the massive hand print I've left. I giggle and end up pulling her hair really hard. She bucks up sharply and knocks me off the couch, falling, I let out the gayest yelp/cry for help I think I've ever managed- a bit like a puppy dog that has hurt its paw. Fortunately my head misses the coffee table, but my ego is bruised and go to bed sheepishly, after finishing the job in silence in the missionary position

Friday night I got myself involved in a softball game. A fairly easy sport-they pitch a grapefruit sized ball underarm to you and you hit it. Really didn't get the fascination. An amusing anecdote from this evening? One guy on my team is the token water boy-shit player, shit lad. A bit like a guy we nicknamed Tommy gun at university. Can't catch, can barely run, forgets to take his glasses off to play and makes terrible conversation. I throw a frisby to him and tell him to fetch. I'm terrible at throwing frisbies, and I see it head in the opposite direction towards the scrum machine. This scrum machine has pads on one side where you hit to practice srumming, and a fence like thing around the back where you put big concrete slabs in for weight. He runs after it. Not looking where he is going, he topples over the fence like thing and smashes his face on a concrete slab. The best thing about this is that his role as water boy/team bitch, meant everyone laughed and no one cared and we carried on playing frisby after someone else ran over and got it.

I made my excuses and left as I was a) driving b) wanted to wake up early to watch England vs. Aus and c) wanted some sleep before the arrival of big guy the next day.

After waking early to watch a pile of crap rugby game, I head over and get a train about 11 to head up to our hostel in NYC. I get a text off big guy on the way saying he has touched down, I text him back telling him how excited I am. As we are drinking with the football starting at 2, I tell him I can guarantee I have pulled before 8pm. Really back myself.

Check into the hostel-it was the cheapest one I could find, a bargain at $40 a night for a room. What they didn't tell you online that it's in the middle of the gay village. I never said what gender before 8pm! Big guy gets there about 1:30, and we meet Jaron and head over to watch the football. The place we have been recommended by the gay guy at reception is a taxi ride away, and when we get there at 1:50, completely packed with the police outside helping the bouncers out. We get a recommendation off one of them and head over 2 blocks. We get lost. On the way, we see a girl, Lauren, who is supporting a London underground themed t shirt and has a st georges cross on her face. She's tall and skinny, not too much up top on her chest and face about a 5/10. A 1 on the binary scale though. We ask her where she's heading and she takes us there. She turns out to be American, oddly. She just loves English things/people. Get to this complete dive bar, no one there, but they are showing the game and they have buy one get one free throughout the game, so as good a place as any. We start watching, and within the first 5 minutes of the matches, our cries of 'come on England' have brought about 90 more punters into the bar. The more I drank, the rowdier I became. As soon as USA scored, about 40 people start laughing at us and chanting USA...USA. I try to get big guy and jaron to start chanting back "you suck arse" with me, but I look like a twat on my own.

Jaron, big guy laruen and I are 3 or 4 deep before the start of the second half and play a round of cheers. Lauren's cheers of 'cheers to meeting 3 cute english guys today' really meant something to me-she wanted me. The second half came and went and so did another 4 pints. I've been flirting outrageously with Lauren all of the second half and end up pulling her at about 4:30. I'm laughing so hard as I do this as I'm trying to kick big guy to get him to watch me do what I told him I would. He hasn't seen. I get into a better position for him to view, kick him, say watch, and pull her again. Sweet. She's average at best, but I don't care. I get the tongue stuck in. Big guy shouts: 'with the tongue!' really loudly and a few people in the bar start watching. These two people Jaron's been talking to look over. One looks like russel brand, the other is a girl he met that afternoon covered in tatoos. Americans in general take the term 'shit ink' to a brand new level. She had two crows, one on each collar pointing inwards, down at her droopy boobs. She tells me her name, but I forget it, and so me and big guy start calling her ink.

We get hungry, we want mexican. Russel brand man, ink, lauren, jaron, big guy and I go for dinner. Looking back on it, I essentially went for dinner with a mate, a mate from work, a bird I have been pulling but met 4 hours earlier, a guy Jaron met in a bar and a bird covered in shit ink. At the mexican, the free nachos go down a storm. They have spicy sauce on the table so big guy and I play 5s for who eats a nacho covered in ridiculous sauce. I lose. It's painful. Big guy does one too because he's a ledge. I don't really talk to lauren who's on my other side as she's boring me. I only face her to pull her as I pluck up the courage to ask her to fuck in the toilets. Our food comes. All of us, apart from Jaron start eating. Jaron bets the table he can eat his burrito without his knife and fork. Good on him. He gets his face stuck in. He does pretty well so towards the end of the meal, we up the stakes. We pass his plate round and we each get to add either the red or the green hot sauce. His plate becomes a mess of green and red chilli with a little bit of rice. He gets it in his nose and nearly passes out from the heat. Meanwhile, I have visited the toilets to test the logistics of my big question. I get back, turn to her and pull her some more. I say:

"Lauren, shall we go and fuck in the toilets?"
"No"

A swift rejection. Much better than dragging it out. Waiter brings more nachos and big guy and I start throwing them at people and around the restaurant, he takes a handful and scrunches them up and throws them on my lap. The bill arrives without us asking for it. A hint to leave? perhaps. We get outside, russel brand look alike tries to take everyones name and number. I put Peter Hunter in his phone. Big Guy can't even spell his own name he is so drunk. Having been rejected by Lauren, big guy and I want to get away from her, so we start running away, leaving Jaron as a casualty. They find us at a crossroads. Lauren tries to hold my hand to cross the road, so big guy and I turn and run the other way. This time we don't stop. Lose her. I have Jaron's number so I can ring him, he's only the temporary fall guy. Get back to the hostel and shower. Neither of us have towels so we use the bed sheets. Jaron meets up with us after ditching her himself. He lies on my bed and nearly passes out. We leave the hostel. Big guy is struggling to cope with the 8 hour flight and associated jet lag. We get a couple 5 hour energy shots and keep our spirits up. Jaron says he's going home to put a shirt on. As he disappears onto the subway, big guy says to me-we won't be seeing him again tonight. And he's right, we didn't. Now Jaron claims he passed out as the chilli was so hot. I question what's better: passing out because chilli is too hot, or passing out because you're hammered at 8:30? I think I'd choose hammered.

Get to our first bar. Couple beers. Overhear this woman saying that if she was in England she'd choose to watch rugby over football. Cue to guys who have been newly signed by Saracens to head over for a chat. We get away with it, but only just. Her fiancé is there, and he's English and into rugby. The mate they are with however, is stunning. Amazing pert little fillet steaks for breasts and a gorgeous face. We convince her to take us rodeo bull riding in a bar, but then she suddenly remembers she has a birthday party to go to, so backs out. She does tell us some local hotspots for 23 year old birds though. Next bar is awesome, we get table service and order cocktails to our table which is outside on the street of Manhattan in the cool summer night. We talk about how cool it would be to live there, and it's true, I honestly can't think of anywhere I'd rather live. After a couple ridiculously overpriced cocktails later we head on. It's so sex and the city. Get an energy shot again. That's 15 hours we should be good for.

G+Ts in the next bar. Get chatting to these girls, very poor standard. They try to have some chat-say we don't look old enough to be out of Uni. I ask how old they are, and their response of 'never ask a woman her age' is so fucking standard I turn my back and stop talking to them. I can do better. See better across the bar, wink at her and beckon her over. Doesn't work, so big guy tries. Still doesn't work. Suddenly see a huge bloke coming right for us. Great, her boyfriend. He comes up to us and asks to take us outside. We apologise and say no. He says the only reason he has not fucked us up is because we have accents. Realising he is not going to beat us up, we start chatting to him to diffuse the situation. Turns out he trains the special forces in hand to hand combat in Afghanistan. Tells us that he once got two guys to put $1000 on a bar, he did the same, winner takes all. He fucked them up and took their money. Tried to do the same with us, we said no, obviously. He's trained with ultimate fighters and ever offers to have one hand tied behind his back to beat us up. Still didn't fancy it. I know Jack would have backed himself, but I am not a big fighter. He departs with: you guys be careful, people are packing heat around here, so don't go winking at dudes girlfriends, let them come to you.

Not phased we move on to a club. It's 11pm and they are playing some of the kind of cheese that big guy and I used to revel in in our uni days. Get in there, full of stunning 18-24 year olds. I'm in heaven. Nail some drinks and hit the dance floor. Start chatting to a couple girls. All it takes is a smile and they come to you here, it's brilliant. Pull about 3 girls within an hour. But focus my attentions on one of the fittest girls I've ever got with, who turns out to be Polish and not impressed with my accent, but likes my chat (I am so drunk, I have no idea why) Go back to the dance floor, and get big guy to occupy her mate. Look over and she's going in for it. Being a mate, I slip my hand over his mouth and yank his head away to save him from feeling shit about it the next day. He thanks me and I go back to my Polish bird. It's 12:50 and I'm so excited about the next 3 hours. Go to the toilet with big guy for a team chat.

'I want to leave'
'Big guy, what the fuck!??!!'
'Yeah we are going'

Big guy's jetlag ruining my opportunity to growl a stunner. Obviously I leave as he's never been in NYC before and we are both fucking pissed. Get an energy shot to try and perk him up. We are both on caffeine overdrive. Our bodies are saying no more, but our minds are not. We get some pizza to discuss tactics. Big guy still wants out, and it's just turned 1:30. We walk towards home. My chat of: fuck you, we are in the city that never sleeps and we are going home at 1:30, you are so hardcore, yeah well done mate, I really wanted to go too, yeah cheers mate, you're a ledge" seemed to have the desired effect. A beautiful girl standing outside a bar starts chatting to us. Tells us we are more than welcome to join her mates birthday. Go in and big guy goes off with a dude in a funny hat to laugh and watch me chat to every girl in sight as they both have girlfriends. Again, I somehow manage to pull 2 really fit girls. One of which, admittedly, is so pissed she gets up and falls off her bar stool. The other gets dragged out by her mates. Nevertheless, I am happy at not only the volume, but also the standard. Nail some sambuca and have a vodka red bull, leave at about 3 and go back, 13 hours of drinking...check, nearly got in a fight....check, pulled about 6 girls like its junior disco...check, spent over $200....check, had an awesome time....check.

The next day we wake up at 6. Hearts are pounding from the caffeine, freezing cold as we used wet bed sheets, and still drunk as fuck. We head out around 9 after checking out, and go for brunch and all you can drink champagne. Thank god they didn't start serving until 12. I really struggled through my eggs. Jaron met up with us, and we went on to check into Big guy's hotel that he was to share for the next two nights with his girlfriend, Daisy. The room isn't ready so, heads pounding, hearts palpitating, we head over to central park to have a nice Sunday afternoon sleep on the grass. Get off the subway and the street is filled with Peurto Rican people. A nightmare, it's Peurto Rico national day, and they are having a parade through the park. People are banging drums and ringing bells in my face. 3 hours sleep, an arse hole like the Japanese flag and a brain functioning about as well as my mate's bruce's ability to control his sphincter, I am losing patience. We try to cross into the park but the parade is going by at a snails pace. A float goes by, people are waving and cheering. Not me and big guy, we are standing at the front letting our feelings known through our facial expressions. A float goes by and stops in front of us. I nearly flip out, but thankfully we get let through the gate and across into the park. Find a vaguely quiet spot and sleep for the majority of the afternoon, before going back and sleeping in big guy's hotel room.

A conclusion I have drawn from Sunday is this: girls, literally, no matter how cool you think they are at first are all the same. Daisy was on a bus coming into NYC, but was running late. We had planned to have dinner, but I needed to get back home as I had a trip to Chicago with work the following morning. She text him saying, if I'm not there by 7, just go ahead. It gets to 7, so we go, she's still an hour or more away. Eat our dinner. Get back and she is fuming at him, having got in closer to 9, that we didn't wait. Ahhh women. I love them though.

Chicago was ok, although worked until past mid night and had a 9 am flight so didn't get up to much. Had a nice meal out with work last night, and am going on the smash tomorrow night with my boss (unfortunately). Then who knows where the weekend will take me.

The conclusions I have drawn from this weekend are these: 1. I love drinking 2. I love women 3. we should all get jobs in New York

Happy hunting.

Peter.