There is something about getting ready that gets me in the mind set for going out. Listening to Prince or the Libertines, showering, shaving (and more than the legs), nice knickers, dressed up, makeup, etc - it all makes me ready to go out, meet some new people, and maybe get laid.
The plan goes awry when I arrive at a party awash with drugs, light on men, and none of them take my fancy. Plenty of Absolute and Diet Cokes later, T and I stagger off, get a taxi and head home.
At least I have a vibrator - or six.
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