About three years ago I was in Fabric nightclub in Farringdon, London.It was an electro night with various bands banging out lively tunes. I was drunk as a skunk, had lost my pals and was stumbling around the dance floor when I bumped into this Indian girl, she was definitely up for it so I went in for a snog and before long were heading back to hers for a roll around. That was the last thing I could remember of that night.

Next morning I’m woken up by a load of shouting, not in English but Indian. I opened my eyes and I’m lying in bed facing the wall. I look up and thought “where the fuck am I?”. The wallpaper is peeling off half way down the wall, graffiti all over the place and the commotion is still going on behind me. I smiled, rolled over and my face dropped.

There was about six, maybe seven young Indian lads (18 to 20 years?) standing over me and this girl, pointing and shouting aggressively in our faces! She’s trying to reason with them whilst I try to work out what’s going on… or how the fuck they have even got into the flat!? In-between arguing with them she turns to me and drops the bombshell. They’re her brothers and cousins! “Just get up and go, now!” she said sternly. I remember thinking “you ain’t gotta tell me twice love, I’m outta here! Laters.” I stand up on the bed and the room falls into a deathly silence, all eyes are on me. I look down and a bright blue, soiled condom is half hanging off my shrivelled pekker…

…Now I’m gonna get it! These lads ain’t here to fuck about and I have just dished out the ultimate insult to their family. I quickly put my jeans on, slipped on my shoes, grabbed my blazer and left my pants, socks and t-shirt on the floor. The room is still silent. They all stand in-between me and my exit. I coyly moved past them expecting a haymaker to the back of the head followed by a good old fashioned beat down as I got between the rabble.

Nothing happened!? I got out into the stairwell and thought “well they must be waiting for me to get out here so they can throw me down the stairs!” I ran as fast as my hung-over legs could carry me whilst pulling my blazer over my head. I made it to the bottom with no aggro…Now I’m in a courtyard
“This must be the place where they’re going to do me… I can’t be getting away with this scot free, no way, not on your nelly!”… I ran through the courtyard, onto the street and into the tube station that was thankfully just around the corner. I’m standing on the platform hiding behind a concrete pillar when suddenly it dawned on me; bollocks, I still haven’t taken the condom off! I reached into my jeans, pulled it off and threw it on the tracks.

I heard a chuckle so I poked my head around the pillar and a couple of middle-aged women are looking straight at me, giggling. .I’m hiding, wearing a blazer with nothing underneath and have just thrown a used condom on the tracks, don’t exactly take a genius to work out what’s happened to me on this particular morning does it.

The train pulls in and I wait until the doors open and launched myself aboard the vessel to safety, pride in tatters.

Joey Robero

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