It’s my night out with the Swiss and my mate and I are running late. We trot up the hill with a light, sweaty sheen on our faces, my side boobs jiggling angrily in my sundress. We finally arrive at the pub 15 minutes late and, as per the plan, by friend potters off to a nearby park so that I can spend some time alone with the Swiss. I head out to the beer garden but she’s not there. Shit.
I check my messages and there’s one from her saying she’s going to be late.
Five minutes go by.
After 15 minutes I text my mate.
“She’s not here! Come out now!”
“I was sitting outside the pub at the front! There is literally nowhere to go around here. I asked a local, they said the nearest place is back DOWN the hill.”
“Stop fucking typing.”
“Lol. I can hide out here until she arrives.”
“No. She’ll think I’ve been alone for half an hour. COME OUT.”
“Okay, I’ll be five.”
“Clearly you hate me.”
“Are you doing a poo?”
A few minutes later my mate slides into the booth next to me.
“Jesus Christ. I had to go to the toilet. Getting this catsuit off is a nightmare.”
Five minutes later the Swiss arrives, bundling us into hugs and apologies. My friend tactfully slinks off to the bar and after a bit of small talk I casually drop into conversation the fact that I’m dating girls now.
“That’s amazing, congratulations!”
“Thanks. So what about you… seeing anyone?”
“I had a date with this guy but it didn’t work out.”
FUCK FUCKING FUCK BALLS.
We spend the rest of the night in the pub drinking wine and tequila and rambling about politics. Talk turns to love and the Swiss grumbles miserably about the lack of available men. So I’m stunned when she admits that she’s slept with women before. Is she bi? Curious? Confused? Could something still happen between us?
We stagger out of the pub 12 sheets to the wind and start wailing love songs, replacing the word “love” with “muff”.
“How deep ish your muff, ish your muff, how deep ish yourrrrrr muffffffff….”
Swiss puts her arm around me and I do the same and for half an hour we walk home with our arms around each other like two peas in a pod.
Back at mine we play games until my friend peels off to bed and Swiss and I are alone at last. Time to lay my cards on the table.
“You know…” I say “I had a bit of a crush on you when I first met you at that party.”
“Oh really? I didn’t know that…”
“Yeah but, are you straight now?”
“Yes, I’m straight.”
“What a shame.”
“Yeah, it is.”
I slope forlornly off to bed, more than a little confused.