How Not to Get Laid

Submitted by Innocent Loverboy, Age 22, London

I was in my university’s union bar, trying not to let the music get to me while sipping my usual non-alcoholic cocktail. Keeping in line with my life from the age of 18 onwards, I was perpetually single, and to be frank, the idiots getting off with other idiots on the dance floor were offending me. Not because they were getting off, exactly; the dance floor was meant to be used for dancing, in my opinion.

I weaved through the interlocked couples and noticed a discarded condom on the floor. It was still sealed in its packet, and looked fine to me when I inspected it. I pocketed it to add to my stock when I got back to my room.

“Have you met my friend Laura?” asked a girl I vaguely knew from sight. I turned around, and there she was: Laura. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a few extra pounds, and a cheeky, attractive quality. I shifted uncomfortably and flashed my default ‘flirting’ smile.

I hovered. I bought her drinks. I tried to make polite conversation. Eventually, I flirted. It’s something I’m good at. I just never seem to know when to start or stop, or where to go with it. I ended up telling her she was sexy, hugged her…

My room floated into my head. She’d be welcome there. It was tidy. My bed wasn’t too small. I’d been so terribly lonely for over a year…

“Okay, well, I’m going back to my room,” I heard myself saying to the now-rather-drunk Laura. “I might get a bit bored, but this is tiring me out.”

“Well, when you get into bed, text me,” she said.

“Oh… but I don’t have your number,” I said. (Yes, that really is what I said. Not “could I have your number?”, or even “I will!”)

She shrugged, laughed, and didn’t respond any more than that. I didn’t have much of a choice - I hugged her goodnight and walked off, deflated.

I never saw her again. But, on the plus side, I got a free condom.

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