Last night I decided to go out and get drunk in the Lizard (the only nightclub in St Andrews) because I’d spent the day reading through what I’d typed up so far and despairing at how terrible it all was. These things happen.
So, there we were, getting our groove on and pulling some sexy shapes and generally having a good time. There was a bit of a weird vibe in that my female friend and I (also female) seemed to be the only females there. (Actually, that isn’t true – there were three girls dancing in a corner but all the men left them alone and gathered around us like a flock of seagulls round someone with food. My friend believes it’s because they were dancing in a circle but that’s not something you can achieve when there’s just the two of you so, in my opinion, they cheated.) Either way, it did feel like two girls in a club full of men (full’s a major overstatement: the club was not busy by any stretch of the imagination but you get my point. We were outnumbered.) This was OK, though: no-one really tried anything. One guy asked me to salsa at one point but he seemed harmless enough. And he left me alone when I said no.
But then the night ended in a rather abrupt and, well, horrible, manner. It was one young lad’s birthday. We already knew this because the DJ had said something about it earlier in the night. So for some reason, his friends decided to crowd around me and ask me for a dance with his friend because it was his birthday and he fancied me. My immediate reaction was: how old is this kid? Now, I know this makes no difference – I wasn’t going to dance with someone because it was their birthday – but I just wanted to know how offended I should be. At first he was 19, when I said I was 25 (hoping that would put an end to it) they decided he was 23. 19 was more plausible.
These boys were persistent. When I refused the dance, they asked for a hug. When I refused this they jumped to handjob. That’s right – they asked me to give their friend a handjob. Why they think I’d be more up for that than a hug, I have no idea, but I then proceeded to tell them that I wasn’t a free prostitute who gave out sexual favours as birthday presents. They then tried to convince me by saying he’d had a hard life. Oh, that made it all right then. The poor boy clearly just needed someone to touch his cock and everything would be better.
When it became clear to them that it wasn’t going to happen, one of them decided to have a go, himself.
‘It was my birthday last month. I’ve had a hard life, too.’
Right. Sure you have, unfortunately, that’s not my problem.
At one point, I got so frustrated that I decided to try and throw their ‘birthday logic’ back at them.
‘It’s my birthday today.’
Their excitement made me see that this tactic could only backfire on me. ‘No.’
In the end, the only thing I could do was leave. The club was closing anyway, so this didn’t matter but I still cannot understand how anyone can think it’s OK to ask someone to give their friend a handjob because it happens to be his birthday.
Anyone got any insight?