Which I wont go into because I can’t be arsed, I decided to ask around on Facebook and find some people to get drunk with on a Friday night. My female friend SF said she was going out so I dived onto the tram with my hip flask and got out to Black Dog Ballroom to meet her and a few of her mates. I recognised a few here and there, most of whom were spoken for. We moved on to Font, where I got talking to one of her mates, who it turned out was engaged. We did shots and talked life. She clearly wasn’t ready to get hitched, though, as before long she was asking me to come downstairs to the toilet, where I snogged her face off.
We moved on to Sound Control, a club / concert venue, where she continued to molest me and then had a breakdown saying that her fiancée didn’t fuck her any more, and that he was an alcoholic. I told her I could if she wanted, and put her hand on my bulge, causing an outpouring of verbal filth from her.
But no. She had to go. She told me she worked at a travel agent’s in town, and that I should drop in and see her the next day (I didn’t).
The rest of the group moved on to the Gay Village, where I left them to get a taxi.
Well. At least I have something to tell CK the psychotherapist next week. At least I tried. How understanding she’ll be, I don’t know- I’ve not exactly painted a great impression of myself. I’ve told her about arguments in work, where I’ve been admittedly out of order, but she hasn’t judged. I have 2 more NHS meetings, I make it, with my next one on Wednesday.
Side issue, but I recommend all the places we went to.