Timepiece Tales: Part I

Naturally, here at The Tab Exeter, we feel that any naughty tale need to be told. We re-introduce you, then, to ‘Timepiece Tales,’ the best of the worst of what goes on in Exeter. Today, we’re kicking things off with a story from one of our own writers who, for obvious reasons, wishes to remain unnamed…

In January 2011, during my second term as a fresher, I went on an Australia Day-themed social.

Needless to say, a lot of booze (mostly Fosters, of course) was consumed, and we freshers had to wear something Australia-related – something, in other words, to make us look almost as stupid as George W. Bush does in this YouTube video (click below).

Good old Georgie Boy, eternal bastion of American intellect.

Dressed in yellow swimming shorts, borrowed flip-flops and a beer-stained wife-beater, I staggered into Timepiece a few hours later and, like any other sexually-frustrated Exeter fresher, I headed immediately upstairs to find the lacrosse and netball girls.

To my surprise, whilst standing beside the bar on the top floor, I managed to string together enough intelligible sentences to chat someone up: a third-year Sociology student (lad) who, for obvious reasons, shall remain unnamed in this article.

This ‘aint a typical TP courtship, though. Go girls.

We spoke, we drank, we flirted, we drank, we kissed – a typical TP courtship – and then we headed back to hers, the first time I had done so as a university student.

Having continued to drink quite heavily throughout the evening, my memories of the events that followed when we arrived at her house are, to the say the least, slightly vague. (All I can remember well is that her single duvet didn’t cover an inch of my arse.)

When I woke up the following morning, like the protagonists of The Hangover (minus the tiger and chicken), I gradually pieced together what had happened from what lay around me: a condom, a thong and, much to my surprise, a heavily-padded bra.

If anyone has in fact woken up next to an animal, please do get in touch.

Despite my best efforts to do so, however, whilst also trying not to wake the stranger who slept beside me (although we’re Facebook friends now), I couldn’t find any of my clothes I wore during the Australia Day social – except my yellow swimming shorts.

Half-naked, wearing a tiny BodySoc t-shirt I found on the bedroom floor, I crept outside the room, slowly closing the door behind me before silently prizing the front door open.

It was at that moment – the moment that I opened the front door – that I realised two things: firstly, that I had no idea where I was (after asking a passerby, it turned out I was near Pinhoe Road) and, secondly, that it was snowing pretty heavily.

Walking barefoot back to halls at 8am in the snow wearing just swimming shorts and a far-too-tight t-shirt, and doing so at same time as when parents started to leave their homes to take their children to school, I’ll let you imagine the rest for yourselves…

Google Maps says 22 minutes walking distance. It took twice as long.

Just had one of your own stories spring to mind? Want to get your own back on your mug-stealing housemate? Send in your ‘Timepiece Tales’ to [email protected] and you might just see it pop up on our site. We can keep them anonymous (though we won’t complain if you want to name and shame).