Evening gents.
Here it is, in all its glory: the best weekend I've ever had.
Let me start by asking you a question. If you were single, and heading up to a rugby tournament with 25 women's rugby teams in attendance, would you try at every opportunity to have a threesome with 2 props? A bit of maths: in the binary code-0=no, 1=yes. 0+0=1. You with me? Good.
I wake up on Friday morning with my boss' underwear I picked up from the street the night before in my back pocket. Jump in the shower and head over to the pitch where I meet a member of the touring party, Craig, and give him a lift on the 6 hour road trip. I don't know Craig that well, and he seems a little shy and timid. I think he is going to be square-I know he is a straight A student, just graduated and heading to Medical School. Should be an interesting car ride, but I don't care-we have his dad's toll pass and he is splitting the cost of fuel.
I'm 20 minutes late. My boss rings and I talk to her about how I fucked her in a back alley, Craig laughs when I tell him I've had my boss at least once a week since I've got here. This gets him in the mood to talk. He's not very good looking, ginger, and has some pretty terrible ink. Looks like the type who may have had a long term bird.
Craig starts telling me about a party he had the night before-he invited all the good-looking girls from his med school's orienteering face book group round to his house. 30 turned up. He said it was so weird being at a party with too many girls-he had to get some mates round. He shagged a hottie apparently. Good for you Craig. We trade uni stories and tell each other what great lads we are. I out lad him with my 'number facking 19' story, and big guy's 'tampon story' from 1st year.
I get lost, take a 120 mile detour and end up getting there in 9 hours. We are near the Canadian border, at the biggest rugby tournament in the continent. Over 100 teams, 75 mens, 25 women's. 32 in our division-the aptly named 'social division'. Get to our hotel, we are sharing 1 room with 1 double bed between 4 of us. I therefore start drinking. At first I didn't want to drink too much, as we had an 8am game, but 3 hours later, this has gone out the window. This is mainly due to the fact it's fucking freezing and I brought no warm weather clothes.
We head into town, to a bar. On the way, the police stop up as we are drinking from red cups.
Policeman: "I'm going to have to take your names, show me some ID"
My mate: "Sure officer, was it the red cups that gave it away?"
"Yeah, but it doesn't matter what colour they are, you can't drink in the street"
Me: "But sir, I'm colour blind, how was I meant to know!"
I know this isn't particularly witty, or clever, but thank god he saw the funny side, and said us British guys crack him up every year at this tournament. All the women’s rugby players are out in force. I am thinking hard about whether or not I want to shag a prop. I do. But do they want to shag me? They are all pulling each other. I get a big drink at the bar and talk to as many 'girls' as possible. I start pulling a really fat bird who plays flanker. Her mate walks by, and she is jacked. So I start hitting on her. My line of: "wow, they are some big arms. Arm wrestle me." would have been smooth if I hadn't backed myself to beat her. I loose. I am forced to do shots, lots of them. In my defense, I later find out she used to be a man, but is a post op transexual. The worst part about this is the guys who told me swarmed around her, and like vultures they start to feast. On her/his face. Very strange, but they don't play with my team.
I'm at the bar, really hammering down some shots. All these girls are hideous. A couple good looking ones, but I ruin it with them by putting my fingers up their noses. I pick a fatty. I head over to a prop. She is really rank. She leans in to my face, I play it cool by turning my head away. She doesn't play it so cool. She puts her hand down my trousers, and whispers: "I'm not a lesbian, take me home". Yes. The girl is so ugly, I have to be told by herself she isn't a lesbian. My cock is now fully out in this bar, but it about as hard as 87 after he gets hit in syndicate and has to be taken home by Rhythm (a very in joke that one). I try and finger her on the dance floor to get myself hard.
She gives me a funny look, so I tell her I'll go to the toilet, and see if I can get myself hard, and then I'll fuck her senseless. A great move. I head to the loo, without initially doing up my fly, and having my trousers fall down momentarily. I spend 10 minutes getting myself ready in the toilet, I walk out and what do I see? Craig, the bastard, has her hand down his jeans. I take her hand and walks off! Shit. I move on, and sticking with my front row theme, I hook up. (GAG!) I am getting with this girl who is distinctly better looking. I must ask her about 15 times to come back to mine. 15 times she tells me I'm too drunk and won't be able to get it up. I don't try to argue-I know it's true.
I wander home at 3 singing Yogi Bear to myself. Set my alarm for 6:30 for our 8am game. Craig gets in at 6:15 and wakes me up.
"Mate, how was she, you dick, you got mine!"
"Errr, which one?"
"What the fuck?!!"
Turns out he goes back, and they wake up her team mate, who knocks on the door and asks to join in, and shags them both, does one up the arse whilst she goes down on the other. I am so angry-I could have had the threesome. Both 0s on the scale, but 0+0=1. Simple maths.
Our game comes around. We saw the other team out the night before, they don't show up, so forfeit. I go find another team to play for. Boston needs and inside centre. Up steps Hunter. First possession, inside centre crash. I knock, the obviously still drunk, opposite centre flat on his arse, run through and pass beautifully off my left hand to the winger who finishes. I've been doing this for years. They are shit. The other team starts to come back, but I smash the centre, he's having a tough day. I get the ball, step him, run 50 metres, pass the ball off, other guy gets tackled, I clear out, quick ball, and we score. I am literally unstoppable. Our hooker gets injured, I move there, and they bring on a replacement back. I stable up the scrum, and throw perfect line outs! (I know!)
The funny thing about Americans playing rugby is, whenever they tackle anyone, score a try or pass the ball, they slap themselves on the chest in an aptly display of poorly self perceived alpha-maleness. It's stupid. (reminds me of a certain game I played in at uni Jack)
The guys from Boston come up to me after and tell me I was MVP (most valuable player, cheers boys) and my beer glass will be overflowing later that night. Very good. Next game at 1, so I head over to the physio tent, complaining about my shoulder. She's not bad you know. I chat to her. Start complaining about my leg. Say I am stupidly inflexible. I get her to show me some groin stretches. I am there stretching my groin, and 3 of my team mates walk by and start laughing.
"Hi boys, sorry was just showing Christina how to stretch her groin-she's a little tight"
No one laughed. She gave me a weird look. I was laughing.
We play our next game, and I start at prop. I am so versatile. I am in support of our outside centre, get the ball, step the fullback and I'm in for my first try of the day. (Incidentally, last try of the day) A few rucks, tackles and runs later, I get moved back to centre. This guy is distinctly better, and I get found out. But as I am being subbed off, I get a loud applause from the boys on the touch line. MVP again, this is embarrassing. Pound for pound, I am so good.
I take a nap before our last game at 5. A team mate of mine, Dave, runs over to me saying he has seen the two girls Craig had from the night before. We grab Craig and head over. We watch them and cheer them on. A personal favorite after one of them gets hit from Craig: "second time you've gone down hard in 12 hours." She goes red.
Last game of the day, we win, we are in the semis. We lose; we don't have a game the next day. It's decision time, they are a bunch of cunts and we want to win. We also want to drink, and the day has been painful. Up 12-0 at half time, we lose to a last minute try and conversion, 14-12. Gutted. But the motto does go: "win or lose, on the booze"
I get a bottle of Jaegermeister and 4 cans of red bull, 4 hot dogs for the grill. I am buzzing after it all and we head into town. We go to one bar, and sing rugby songs until my head hurts. Me and my friend get naked in the bar. We get asked to leave. Go to the next bar, see the guys from Boston. All of a sudden, a guy wearing a miniskirt has bought me 6 pints and I'm chinning them. I really don't need any more booze. Next bar. Start chatting to a vaguely hot girl.
"What do you do?"
"I'm a physio"
"YES!! You helped me with my shoulder, and laughed at me for being in flexible"
She laughs at me more, we flirt loads and I pull her. She's a local, and not a rugby player, great news. We head onto the club. When I say "we" in this context, I really mean me, on my own, thinking my friends are in tow. They aren't. I need to piss. Two guys occupying urinals in the mens so I bet another guy 10 dollars the one on the right finishes first. Game on. We start supporting our race horses. I ask to see what I'm working with, and he shows me. Yes, he's definitely a stallion. My competitor, to make up for inferior equipment shouts a lot of encouragement. Too much, the horse falls at the first fence. Stage fright has hit the poor lad, and my horse takes it with ease. 10 dollars in my back pocket. I piss, and finish before the other guy who still has stage fright and probably wants to die. I turn around, satisfied in my winnings to see, to my horror, 3 of the guys on my team standing there with their mouths open. They apparently have seen me take 10 dollars off someone, pat a guy on the arse and shout "well done" at his penis. This must look odd.
The girls toilets has a huge queue, so I make this my base for the evening. When is a better time to pick up a woman than when they are queuing. They are stuck there. I see the physio. I pull her. It's easy to talk here as the music isn't so loud-girls start hearing my accent and flock to me. A really quite good looking girl who looks half chinese, half arabic comes and starts talking to me. She is from Turkey and is working at one of the hotels cleaning rooms for the summer. She tells me she misses European men as Americans are "needlessly arrogant" I agree. And pull her. Head to the dance floor with her. Grinding like a mad man. Hard penis? Feel like I'm capable. Very good. Time to ask her if she wants to go. Leave with her 'for air'. She lives just opposite the club. Can't go back to hers as she lives in a flat of 9 Eastern European cleaners and they have a 'mother of the house' she sounds more and more like an illegal prostitute. We go for a walk down to the lake. I give her so much cheese. American guys are walking by throwing up. I tell her how trashy I think that is. I am far more mature, and the surroundings are so beautiful, why waste your time here by getting to drunk? She gets my knob out and gives me head by the lake for an hour. I cum in her mouth and walk her home.
“DO you have a phone number, I’d like to see you tomorrow before I go.”
“No, but I have an email address”
“That works”
I take it and walk home. Who seriously gives an email address? On my walk home at 3, I ring Craig.
"Mate what you up to?"
"Me, Dave, Blake, Mike and Jeff are at these girls house, come here."
I don't need to be asked twice. I find it 10 minutes later. They are all hideous, seriously ugly girls. Half of them are going out with each other. Dave takes a girl to one bedroom. Mike follows to the same room with a different girl. They have sex at the same time. Mike finishes first, and gives Dave some encouragement. Dave later goes on to say: "thank god, mike was there, he was the best looking in the room, and his encouragement kept my erection"
Craig has been working on these two lesbians. They are giving it chat about how one has never shagged a guy and the other wants to watch her first time with a boy. Craig, Jeff and I are all vying for this position. I have the feeling it's just chat though. They go upstairs and shut the door. Craig is angry so heads up to grab a jumper for the walk home. Jeff, Blake and I wait by the door. He comes back with a jumper, pulls it on for the walk home. One girl comes running out in a towel: "Craig, come back, we aren't done with you"
One word: Cunt. 2 threesomes in 2 nights. These two aren't great either, but fuck it. Although according to them he was so drunk he went and stood by the door for 20 minutes just watching them lick each other out.
Jeff Blake and I go home.
Wake up at 11:30 the next day, jump in a car and head to watch the finals. I fully expect to be driving home after the final. Someone puts a beer in my hand, and I start drinking. Someone gives me a premixed vodka energy drink, and I drink it. Someone hands me a margarhitta, and I drink it. I'm hammered and it's 4pm.
The girls from the house are sitting in the shade in a tent. Bails of hay line the pitch. Dave, hammered, grabs two bails and chucks them in. What's he doing? Then it happens. He shouts: "FEEDING TIME!!" A stunned silence. Then raucous applause and laughter, high fives and cheering. The 6 girls descend on him and lay into him. "Not me, not me, the hay, the hay!"
One of the best moments of the weekend.
Dave, having recovered from his beating, decides to challenge me to consequence 5s. I loose and have to tackle a huge girl to the ground as she is walking past. I do it. And I run way. Like a twat, but good job. She was a US international prop. Dave is wetting himself. The Irish touring side win the tournament. But no one really cares-they haven't been out in town yet, so of course, completely fresh, they win.
We head home. I am crashing hard. I have work the next day, so tell Craig we are going home. Luckily, I decide to check my email. Both of the managers on my project won't be in until 2 on Monday. Could I get hammered and leave at 6? Why the fuck not. And I am so glad I did.
We go to a microbrewery and drink shit loads, all paid for by one of the older guys who wants us to "do some crazy shit".
Craig and I are in a bar. Putting our fingers on girl’s heads and getting them to spin. One girl doesn't get the game so I tell her she has to spin around and then pull me as I am better looking when she's dizzy. This works. Then she walks off. Odd.
Start talking to an ok looking girl and her friend in the corner by a big map of the world. I decide to have a little fun.
"Where are you from?"
"France" I point at China.
"Yeah, I like France I've been there"
"Well as a French man, it's difficult with the political relations, what with us bordering Pakistan" I point at Pakistan.
"Huh? I don't get it. Are you lying? That says China!"
"Ahh you got me"
"Your not French, you're English!"
"No, actually I'm French. Je parle Anglais comme ca parce que, quand j'etais petit, je suis alle a une ecole Anglais"
"Oh"
"Ah nah I'm lying. I'm American. I grew up in a small community in Pennsylvania called LE Blanc. It's a gated community, and we are all French. The lady that teaches English is from England so I learnt it with an English accent"
"Oh right. I'm from Pennsylvania"
"Then you'll know it, surely?"
"Yeah I do"
She really just said that to make herself not look stupid. I start chatting to her mate, and ask to try on her shoes. We swap shoes and I'm wearing 4 inch heals. I start to dance around, the older man who bought us drinks all night tells me to take them outside for a walk. She follows me. Everyone is happy I’ve picked up at 11:30. This isn’t good enough, she isn’t great. So outside, I take my top and jeans off on the street. I ask her to swap clothes. She takes her dress off. I put it on. I wander back into the bar. Shocked looks everywhere.
“Peter, you left with her 10 minutes again, now you are wearing her clothes?”
“And?”
“Fair play”
We head over to the other bar. In my dress, I’m looking good. I am unstoppable and pretend I am a girl and hit on so many dyke looking girls. One of them puts their hand up my dress to check to see if I’m a girl. I am not. She isn’t interested in a threesome. Speaking of threesomes, I asked Craig to prove that it wasn’t luck, and go for the hat-trick. He’s so drunk, he has passed out in the corner. As he hand leaves my dress, I see the Turkish girl from the night before, looking at me shaking her head. I head over, and get turned down. I swap clothes back and try again. More success, but she is talking to an Irish guy. I get more booze. I pull the girl who was wearing my clothes. Turkish girl sees this. Not impressed. I now make it my mission to shag her.
I chat to her, tell her I’m sorry I didn’t email her, but I had no access to internet. She doesn’t buy it. She isn’t impressed. I try a dance move. A cheeky hip thrust? Works. She’s giggling. I do more. She starts dancing with me.
“My mother isn’t in on Sunday nights”
I grab her hand and we leave. Get to her room. She shares a double bed with another girl, who isn’t back yet. She locks the door. I look at photos on her wall. At home she has to wear the head veil, goes to Mosque and doesn’t drink. A proper Muslim girl. I take her clothes off, and start growling. She has small tits, but a good looking face, a nice arse and a flat stomach. She gets on top and starts grinding, but doesn’t let me penetrate.
“I don’t want to fuck you in the vagina, do me in the arse”
Ok. I need lube. None around. I put a condom on thinking this will give me some grease. Nothing. I rim her. Spit on it. Everything I can think of. Goes in, just the tip. I thrust a couple times, but it’s not fun. “Fuck it, just fuck me:
YEAH!!! I fuck her. I finish up, and she shows me out. I tell her I need to drive in 2 hours as I have work the next day. She says she’ll come and stay at my hotel. Really? Craig in my bed. I need my sleep so I can drive and function the next day. I do a very bad thing. I start running. I don’t look back.
Get it, check my emails, one from my boss telling me to email an partner agency that has been shit. I send a ridiculously rude email to them telling them they’re shit. Seriously, I don’t advise getting home and checking work emails, then sending angry emails to partner agencies, and ccing you boss in. They tend to be jibberish, and they do say sent at 4:35am on them.
I wake up at 6 and drive for 6 hours back and get into work like nothing has happened.
What a great weekend. I question if I’ll top it. Until I come back next year.
Happy hunting.
Peter.
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