On a second date with a girl in Glasgow, out for a few drinks, ended up in some 80's club, she started being all bunny out of the blue asking why I wasn't replying to her texts fast enough day to day etc...even though every time I went to the bar she started flirting with other guys...
Anyway, got a taxi back to 'her flat' only for her to open the front door and say "****, my Dad must be staying here, my parents must've had an argument"... To this day I do not know why but after some very minor convincing, I followed her into the bedroom despite thinking 'this doesn't look like a 20-something year old uni students flat. We were both too hammered for anything of any substance to happen so no high fives there...
Morning arrives and we're woken by the sound of a hoover and her parents talking in the hallway... Before her mum proceeded to walk into the room to pick up her dirty laundry... My head was swiftly under the covers, still as a rock, hoping it was a dream... Her mum leaves the room without a word.
Start chatting and I'm like "how the **** am I going to get out of here alive?"... I was told not to worry, they normally go out on a Sunday... It was nearly 2pm before they went out... Pretty sure I set new records for amount of alcohol in my bladder for that length of time, the pain was unreal.
They went out, I emptied my bladder, spewed in her bathroom and sharply left. Got bunny boiler'esque dogs abuse over the coming weeks for ignoring her text messages but she soon disappeared.
/The End.