Mother Teresa obviously had a penchant for amphetamines. Her long-suff ering kindness, her unfl inching love for humanity – tell-tale signs of a MDMA recreational user. And, without wanting to compare myself too directly to Blessed Teresa of Calcutta, this weekend saw my sex life take a pill-poppin’ departure.
It is Friday night at 3am. I float out of Cellar, pupils dilated and teeth grinding. My compassion knows no bounds: I’d like to teach the world to sing. As I leave the club, hugging a bouncer on the way out, my eyes alight on a stumbling wreck of a young gentleman, with whom I decide to converse.
‘Sam’, unfortunately, is just pissed. His slurred speech and solipsism are the antithesis of my hyper-lucid and hyper-benevolent state, but, to my ecstatic eyes, he is enchanting. I am enraptured by his South African roots and PhD in Dutch philosophy. I want to discuss these things in intricate detail, whilst admiring the silver glimmer of the sky’s myriad galaxies and gently touching my own hair. Sam, on the other hand, wants cheesy chips and sex. It is a match made in heaven.
I bunk him back to Cowley, merrily interpreting his comatose silence as a prolonged intellectual pause. I gaze lovingly upon his angel face. He’s the one. I want him to meet my housemates and my family and my tutor and my landlord. We shag joyfully, every drunken grope transformed to silken caress.
At this point, however, my aura of ecstasy begins to ebb. Sam reveals the existence of a longterm girlfriend, and my come-down begins to hit. He bemoans his infidelity and promptly falls asleep; I lie awake, my high transformed into an abyss of self-abhorrence. The bedroom is a hellish jail filled with hatred and despair; his face is a gargoyle sent to torment me. Why didn’t I leave him at Chicken Cottage? Sam the Greek god reverts to a slightly hungover young man, and I am bereaved. Everyone knows drunken one-night stands look less attractive the morning after, but it is around 5am that the high hook-up stops being star-spangled marriage material. Next time, just say no.
