The Sexcapades and Misadventures of Dirty Bertie

My lecturer keeps babbling on and on, she gives me a look that tells me she’s spotted that I’m not paying attention and I really don’t care. The only thing keeping me going right now, other than trying to decide whether or not my lecturer moans in the sack, is the thought of Moonies with my mates.

There are so many shitholes to take the edge off the start of the week, but none suits me better than my carpeted-club on Greek Street. There’s something almost beautiful about it. That tinge of sweat in the air, that bitter taste of cheap liquor and the awkwardness. Oh yes the awkwardness! When you collide with all those people you got-with in Freshers and never called back, or slept with but chose not to date. A naive minority don’t know what that feels like cos they’re in relationships. But don’t worry. They will soon enough.

Moonies on a Monday night is where shame breeds and STI’s fester, so if you’ve never been – sort your life out. That reminds me, I need to pop into Mortimer Market Centre for another check-up, but alas, no time today – better be tomorrow. Keep forgetting to use a condom – okay, that’s a lie. Once you’ve tried without a condom, there’s little incentive to go back.

They say that you can connect yourself to anyone in the world by every 9 people. In Moonies, you can connect yourself to anyone in there through every other person. When you’re next in Moonies and you’ve crammed onto the dance floor, take a look either side of you. Can you see that girl? The one just behind your loud mate, who incidentally is really lucking-out tonight. She’s been eyeing you up for a bit now, and she’s quite fit. So what’s the problem? Well according to your mate, she used to date his mate and apparently she’s a controlling bitch – so best not to give her a chance. Who knows what kind of razor sharp teeth might be lurking in that shady forest? She’s probably the type to talk during, and not in the good way.

And now on your right, that bloke there. The one who came wearing just a t-shirt even though it’s fucking freezing right now. Well as it happens, he knows most things about you cos his girlfriend’s best friend, who you got lucky with last week, passed on all your pillow chat. Actually come to think of it, that girl he’s getting with isn’t his girlfriend. What a dick – cheating at our age has got it’s time and it’s place, but cheating in Moonies is like masturbating on the back of the bus; you will only get away with it once or twice.

Finally, she’s stopped talking. Time to crumple up my doodles and the flirty messages and rejections from the girls sitting in front of me. Time to hit The Court and warm-up for tonight. Time for a night to forget.

D.B.