Firstly an apology, been a busy boy so have neglected this last episode of the Ordeal Trilogy.
The Ordeal: The Last Crusade...
Last time I left we had indeed fed the ever insatiable need to drop the coats by the car. This had taken an awfully long time (read 1 and 2 for more detail) yet I was feeling somewhat satisfied with what had turned from a routine operation to a triple bypass.
Now one problem loomed... back to the club in which the alcohol and dancing were being served quicker than the lies from a politician. We were miles off. We walked round the side of the blessed Cathedral, although I wasn't feeling much love for it at this particular juncture, only to spot the same taxi that had delivered us.
Dare we upset the taxi man further for the measly pounds we would receive for such a short circuit again? No indeed not. Cowardice took over and we walked further, discussing how creepy cemeteries really are, as indeed they are.
We did indeed get into a taxi, the driver far more pleasant that the previous dropped us at the club. Elation, indie music, beer and a shattering of dancing folk were vast and plentiful compared to soaked grounds of the cathedral. The two ladies meandered off the toilet (as ladies do) whilst I ordered a drink. Only at this point did I realize that it was £3 for the cheapest bottle of lager. Yet I did not care. At this point sobriety was leering its somewhat judgmental neck, so I got rid and had another. The ladies were less than impressed with the £12 for two double vodkas yet I digress.
The music was wonderful the night rounding off nicely until the boys within the cub had decided that the two ladies in question were of a desirable nature. Enter the boy circle. This is a function I have not engaged in since 2009 when I would have been 19 year old and worked out very quickly that it doesn't tend to get you anywhere with the girls. This is where a group of males hover nervously around the vicinity of the girls moving in baby steps at a time. Like a car crusher they have them locked in a block of testosterone madness.
the final step of this is to turn and find yourself dancing with the girl (sneaky, sneaky like). The girls don't respond in the way boys like to this. We think in the drunken thought process that the girls would indeed look and even applaud our initiative to get somewhat near to them.
The final point of this maneuver is to unleash man claw!! This is where you enter the hand round the side of the girl, waist height and attempt to spin her so she is now facing you. Now looking into your eyes, she will fall madly in love and eventually sleep with you. Alternatively you creep her right out. The chances of this happening are 99%, I honestly believe this works 1% of the time but for those with no shame one out of a hundred isn't bad.
The only way to counteract this move is for
1. A girl to hit the boy or
2. go for man wall
This is where the males in the group with the girls perform a protective circle around the ladies to protect against the grasping, leering arms of those around them. Almost a condom of dignity.
Lads in clubs, behave! Where did it go where modesty would indeed get you anywhere rather than initial hand rape, in which you poke a hand through a crowd in order to advance like a perverted flu that will not just go away onto a woman?
These boys were indeed blocked out by man wall and all was well again. We moved on to the next place tiredness now creeping in, iridescent of the evening so far.
Part 2 of three (too right I'm like the Twilight films) coming very, very soon...
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