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Great Sexpectations: Volume Six

So where does a guy, looking to entertain his friends from home and yet also to bring his challenge to final fruition, choose as an establishment that can serve both these agendas? Where can he inebriate his close friends enough that one of them might make a move, and yet also feel secure that if such a plan were to fail, he would still have plentiful opportunity for loving? The answer is in to parts: it starts with Fuzzy, and it ends with Ducks. .

There’s a big college cohort going and I see that my best friend is out; noticing each other we mix in that awkward way where each is trying desperately to hold on to the group’s conversation, but not have to talk directly in response to one another. She couldn’t have known about last week. Eventually though, in the taxi before we arrive, we’re loosened up by the good atmosphere and even get each other laughing in the safety of our friends. My home friends are being riotous, but as we enter Fuzzys they realise that even they might have to up their games. It’s pure carnival, and my friends are immediately immersed in Fuzzy fever, at the bar, on the dancefloor, in the smoking area, taking full advantage of the self-professed ‘easiest place to pull.’ As for me-I dither. I dance with my home friends and yet don’t brave a one-off move; I meet girls at the bar, and yet somehow don’t feel any desire for Pochahontas, or Army girl, or Cheerleader; I make some progress with my best friend, and talk through a lot of the previous week’s embarrasment, and yet I still can’t seal it with a kiss. I think I’m overwhelmed by the sheer scale of what’s on offer-like standing at a large buffet with a small plate..

And how does one who has so misplaced his mojo deal with the revelation? How does he overcome it? Well he drinks. He drinks whisky like its water, while his best friends try to dance with him and falling couples try to lean on him to kiss, and the ice queen tries to banter with him, throwing small insults and looking too hot to relate to. So I drink my whisky, until I need to sleep, and the pavement outside Fuzzys seems the most logical place. I’m roused from my chosen spot about twenty minutes later, and hauled back to college where my two home friends, inbetween unforeseen kisses, drag me to my room and kindly deposit me in a quivering bundle on the floor, as they take to my bed and congratulate each other with impromtu sex. Fuzzys 0, Home Friends 1. Fuzzys 1, Great Sexpectations 0.

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