Frankie woke up to the horrific reality of the night before. The taste of gin still lingered in the back of her throat and the only thing that could be heard coming from her bedroom was the sound of gentle sobs, caused entirely by the gin. She was perfectly aware that she did a lot of cringey things last night and the only person who could make this better was her mum. Ah, the perks of still living at home at 22. “Can you please come in, I need a cuddle” she sent the text to the room across the landing and it wasn’t long before she heard the patter of slippers walking across the house. The sight of her mum set the tears free and within thirty seconds she was a blubbering, Sally Hansen caked mass under the makeup stained duvet.
“Aw, bad night?” She then asked herself this question. Was it a bad night? No, it was a rather good night with some dodgy extras. She knew she had lost her friends pretty early on, and somehow ended up with a man who happened to be a very good kisser. She was certain that she was never to hear from him again, distinctly remembering telling him “All men are assholes” and then to top it all off, she began eating all of his chips when the rant had ended. A few hours of fun with this man had turned into an interrogation with a free buffet and by the time she was fumbling through her bag for her house key, she was sure he was suspecting she was ready for a mortgage, three kids and a golden retriever. She wasn’t. She was just drunk, a little emotionally vulnerable and rather volatile natured at the best of times.
While cuddling with her mum, she broke the silence with “Oh crap, I hope I didn’t sob at any point while I was with him.” There was a high possibility this had been the case, although she really didn’t want to know if it was or not. A one way flight to Peru seemed like a great idea at that point, and she planned on looking up the latest Ryanair sale the moment her mum left the room.
Luckily, the emotions subsided as the day went on and there was no need for her to start digging out her passport. Eight hours passed and much to her surprise, his name lit up her phone that evening. “Enjoy the night?” he asked. She was still trying to figure that out fully. She was also trying to figure out why he would contact a hungry, aggressive maniac after she basically told him he was a flaw in today’s society. Surely he was a fairly dodgy character himself if he seemed to get a kick out of this type of behaviour? After all, there was no reason for him to contact her, she had left no great impression and he had wasted two quid on the chips she had devoured shamelessly in front of him.
Ah, the mystery of men.