Nelson Galaxy

Number 29: Man in Bed

It is another Friday night. It is midnight and you are rather drunken and bored. You can hear all those totties outside, clomping along in their high heels, laughing, having fun and looking for a bit of sexing. The light bulb of your mind springs to life and you decide to put on your best dancing trousers and head on out for a bit of poontang.

The Hayfield is full of scary sport watching men so your drink addled brain tells you to try the local gay bar – it is going to be rammed with sexy totty, probably. You pay your pound and enter the glittery drinking hole. This will be your final memory.

Next morning you awake with a terrible headache and a very dry mouth. As consciousness seeps in it gradually it dawns on you that there is an unknown man in your bed. You were not even dressed in drag so there is no excuse. On shaky legs you quietly get out of bed and tippy-toe to the living room. Closing the door you consider pushing the table up against it and hope above hope that the bed invader will soon leave.

You hear him an hour later, throwing up in the bathroom, and pretend none of this is happening. It isn’t happening, is it?