Went to Europe for TM’s stag do. TM is part of a group of lads that I know that I am mates with, but I always have problems with. We fall out a lot. We argue over group members’ behavior, usually mine. I mentioned here that the group don’t treat me very well. Well, I had to have words with a number of them, regarding gay shit about me that they’d been posting on Facebook. We’re a group of grown men, and this is what we end up falling out over. Ridiculous. Turns out I too had pissed off one of them by putting up a picture of them butt-naked face-down on a bed in some other holiday resort. Fair enough. We’d pissed each other off half a decade ago now, and we’d never talked about it. I tried talking to MW about this but he just stormed off saying “Don’t talk to me.” Not very mature. But I apologised (he didn’t, despite telling TM he would), we hugged it out and it was done with.
Let it be known, though, if MW ever runs his mouth around me I’ll knock him out.
We did fancy dress- I was wearing an outfit with a plastic helmet. My “friends” found it irresistible to slap me on the top of the head, meaning that the edge of the helmet cut into the bridge of my nose. I pulled them up on it eventually- I showed TM the blood pouring out of me- he advised me to keep it off. Surely my mates not being grade-A fucknuggets in the first place would have been a better scenario?
There wasn’t that much talent on display, but when there was I usually managed to get selfies with the girls. On a more positive note, I pulled one Irish girl with big boobs. (There were LOTS of Irish in this resort.) I spotted her from across the bar. I was one of the only single blokes in our team, so I HAD to do something. I would have been so disappointed in myself if I hadn’t. I had to walk past this dark haired beauty a couple of times before I found my bollocks and got talking to her. Her name was TH. She turned out to be really nice and not someone I needed to be nervous around. I took her to the dancefloor and kissed her. She caught me checking out her tits, but she didn’t mind. When we got out of the club, her friends insisted that I take her home. “She needs a good fucking,” her friend said. I took hold of her hand but she literally dug her heels in. There was nothing I could do. I told her we could just go back and talk, but no.
My mates typically complained to me that I didn’t take her home. Well, sorry for not being a rapist. She didn’t want to. The fuck am I supposed to do? I’m not arsed though- I’m proud that I approached her and pulled her. I’ve got her on Facebook, not that that means anything.
The stag team went back to the hotel, where a few of us got talking to these Irish milfs. LT, who is married with kids, fucked one of them. He told me to fuck off whilst I was trying to throw a bid in with one of them. Fucking ridiculous.
I went back to my room and found OB who I was sharing with. We were about to go to sleep when OB went outside for some reason. He came back in and rolled the patio door shut. “Fuck.” He ran to the bathroom. “Ahhhh. FUCK. Ow. Ow.” I turned the light on. Huge blobs of blood trailed from one end of the room to the other. I tried to get in but he’d locked the door. Eventually he opened- the sink was red. Huge arcs of blood had splattered out of his thumb and over the walls and mirror. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it up as much as I could, and in the midst of this he managed to remember to grab his passport from the safe and I took him downstairs.
The hotel was designed like a fucking maze, and it took AGES to find the reception- I ended up outside on the edge of a golf course at one point. Eventually we found it and the hotel receptionist just said, “they won’t bring an ambulance for that. You’ll have to get a taxi.” Fucking shocking. At this point MW rolled in and found us. He told me to go to bed and assured me he’d sort it out. That’s what I did.
The next night we went to a strip of bars, where I lost everyone. I went into EVERY fucking bar on this strip- no-one was answering their phones- and couldn’t find my guys, but bumped into TH again. I told her my predicament but I didn’t stay long- didn’t wanna leach onto her.
Almost went to a strip club on my own, but just wasn’t in the mood after losing everyone. Went back to the hotel (after asking about 10 people where it was). When I got in OB had left the latch on the door and had fallen asleep. He wouldn’t wake up. Once again, I went through the ballache of trying to find reception. But eventually the hotel night manager came up to the room with a small weight and a string, and looped it over the catch a few times. With a bit of jiggery-pokery he pulled the door shut and the string pulled the latch off its fixture allowing the door to open. Incredible. OB snored throughout all of this.
The next day: More drinking. Most of the team pissed and moaned about me not shagging the Irish girl. MW made further complaints about food in some pub that was obviously terrible to begin with. Was drunk most of the weekend. Thought I’d lost my phone- found it under my balls in my speedos.
Felt isolated. I can’t really talk with the team as whenever we do meet up it’s party time. Last time I saw them was the end of August. Half the shit I want to tell them involves being critical and ruins the mood. Yet what we say to each other MUST be discussed. So it’s always going to be hard work. Well, whatever. The wedding reception is in 2 weeks. Further conversations must be had. It’ll still be a good time.