Cocaine, Women and The Warehouse Project.

Paradise

Have you ever noticed how it’s the quiet, reserved office slaves- the ones that don’t kick up a fuss in the workplace- that are always the ones to invite you back after the office “do” for a coke binge?

 

On this particular occasion- back in October, maybe- I declined, saying “I don’t do that kind of thing any more”, but then I ended up doing a bump a few weeks later in my own home. Friends came round, and one held out a key loaded with a mound of powder. I hoovered it before I realised I was to be designated driver for the night. Idiot. But then, OB shouldn’t have offered it me, should he?! Having said that, he’s far from quiet.

 

Still, I ended up at The Warehouse Project on Saturday 24th November watching Hot Creations. Incredible club, but dear. Also, it was very hard to pull, whether you’re on coke or not. I don’t think any of us did. Not in there, at least. OB had one lined up already, of course, so I drove him to her house at 4am or something. The cheeky bastard had the audacity to text me at 11am the next morning for a lift home! Doesn’t he know what a bus is?! I didn’t wake up until way past 1pm though.

 

So, yeah, incredible club, but not a pulling place. For heavy dance music fans only. I remember asking OB- what do you actually say, when you want to talk to a girl?

 

His response: Humour is key.

 

Hmm. I should have pressed for specifics. I didn’t get anywhere that night in terms of pulling, but I realise now that I have a platform for discussing my plight with women: this very blog. I might not have pulled at Hot Creations, but I can do this. I can turn shit around and succeed with women. I’ve pulled a few times recently. I’m on track again. I even got a shag in Belfast, so something must be working. It’s time to get somewhere, for once, and not be smothered by paranoia. Let’s make this happen.

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