The Drought (The hilarious laugh-out loud comedy about dating disasters!)

by Steven Scaffardi

  We live in a culture where tales of hour-long sex marathons get splashed across tabloid headlines and celebrity magazines. Telling someone you are going to shag them all night long is always said with the greatest intentions, but who seriously wants to bang away for hours on end? It’s all bravado. If you manage to pull a double shift you are liable to get a dull ache in the end of your throbbing penis about 10 minutes into the second stint. And if a girl comments on how impressed she is with your stamina, it normally translates to hurry up and finish and get the fuck off me.

  The third biggest fear? The size of your sausage No matter how comfortable you are with the size of your manhood, there is always a doubt. Whether it is fear of having a small penis or a fear of not measuring up to other penises she has encountered.

  There should be support groups for men where quotes like it is not the size of the sea, but the motion of the ocean hang on plaques across the wall.

  I could tell Grace was waiting for me to make a move. I looked at my glass of wine and took a sip, which turned into a gulp, which turned into me pretty much downing the whole glass. I wiped my mouth ready to move in for the kill and...

  “Oh for crying out loud,” Grace said launching herself at me, our lips locking and tongues slipping in and out like a hose that was no longer in control. She shoved me back on to the sofa and straddled me, lifting her top off over her head.

  I put my arm round her, attempting the old one-hand bra release. After a few seconds of struggling, I resorted to two hands. But that wouldn’t work either. I was now 10 seconds into my attempt to remove her bra. This was precisely seven seconds too long. Why don’t these things come with a manual? Grace reached round to assist and I almost knocked her hand away just to prove I could do it. But I already realised I was scoring pretty low on the sexy super cool stakes so I let her remove it herself.

  Now it was my time to shine. I had always considered myself a breast man and this was an opportunity to redeem myself for my so far not very impressive performance. I started with the right breast, cupping it in my hand like a stress ball and showing off my skills with my tongue. I then moved across to the left breast so it didn’t feel left out.

  “Careful babe,” Grace said. “Gentle.”

  Brilliant. I couldn’t even get the one thing right I thought I was good at. On to plan B. This was basically to get naked as quickly as possible so she couldn’t back out.

  However, I managed to lodge myself in no man’s land as I attempted to lift the shirt over my head and arms at the same time. I was trapped, unable to see anything and with limited use of my arms. I could only imagine the expression a topless Grace wore on her face as she watched me attempt to escape the customised straight-jacked I had put myself into.

  It was bad enough Grace had needed to help me to take her clothes off; she now had to help me take mine off too. Between us we finally lifted the shirt over my head. My hair was a mess and my face was as red as a beetroot, and we hadn’t even done anything yet.

  Grace didn’t seem to care though as she shoved her tongue back into my mouth and yanked at my trousers. I took the hint and quickly removed my jeans as Grace stood and removed hers.

  She stood in front of me in a small thong, sex in her eyes. I sat on the sofa with a boner, wearing socks. It wasn’t the best look, but to hell with it. She straddled me, rubbing

  herself against me. I urged myself not to prematurely ejaculate, especially when the only thing that now stood in my way of sex was a piece of material the size of dental floss. I reached to pull her thong down and she whispered into my ear, “Do you have a condom?”

  “A condom?” I asked. “Yes, hold on.” Of course I had a condom. I was a man prepared. I reached down and pulled my wallet out of my jeans pocket. Do you really think I would come all this way, get this far, and not have a condom?

  “I don’t have one,” I said, a look on panic in my face. “Do you have one?”

  “No, I thought you would bring one,” Grace said as her shoulders slumped.

  “Perhaps we could...”

  “I am not having sex with you without a condom,” Grace cut me off.

  “I wasn’t going to say that,” I protested, even though that was exactly what I was going to say. This was not good. This was about as far away from good as you could get. I had come so close – again!

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “There is a shop outside the tube station. They’ll sell condoms.”

  Grace smiled and planted a kiss on my lips. “Hurry up then,” she said. I jumped up off the sofa and got dressed in record time. I think I even had my shoes on the wrong foot and my pants inside out, but there wasn’t time for small details like that. I had condoms to buy!

  I raced out of the flat and weaved my way in and out of the back streets of Tooting. I ran past the local youths hanging out after dark, shot a left down the road with a telephone booth, quickly hit a right past the barking dog in the front garden, zoomed past the woman smoking on her doorstep with her neighbour, cracked a right sprinting by a guy working on his car, and navigated my way under the flickering street lamp on my final left turn before making my way out on to the High Street.

  Standing across from the shop I could see the owner starting to pull the shutters down to close up. I had to get in there. Taking my life into my own hands I dashed across the busy main road, ignoring the car horns and screeching car brakes caused by my recklessness. I dodged the old lady at the bus stop and practically leapt through the front door Indiana Jones style. The shop assistant stared at me with a bizarre look on his face. “We’re closed,” he said.

  “Please, this is a matter of life and death,” I managed to say catching my breath. “You have to serve me.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but we are closed,” he reiterated.

  I slammed my hands onto the counter. There was no way I was walking out of this shop without getting what I wanted.

  “Look,” I started. “I am sure you have had a very long day, and I don’t want to keep you any longer than I have to. But you have to serve me. If you had walked in these shoes, even for just one day, then you would appreciate the sweat, blood, tears, and disappointment I have endured these past few months. My whole existence depends on this one moment.” I leaned forward and grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him towards me. “You have to help me. It is your duty as a fellow man.”

  Okay, it was slightly over the top but it did the trick. I let go of the shopkeeper and he nodded at me, straightening out his shirt. “Okay, what do you want?”

  “A packet of condoms,” I said it without flinching. “The ribbed ones,” I continued, pointing over his shoulder to the shelf behind him.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” the shopkeeper asked.

  “No,” I replied. “They are ribbed for her extra pleasure.”

  “I am not talking about them being ribbed you idiot,” the shopkeeper said throwing the condoms down in front of me. “I’m talking about that little speech.”

  I simply shrugged my shoulders and handed him the money. He shook his head in disgust, but I didn’t care. I had condoms. I raced out and took a deep breath of the night air. After all the doubt, all the barriers, all the heartache and excessive masturbation, I was finally going to do this.

  All I had to do now was get back to Grace’s flat on... what was the name of her street? I had been in such a rush to get to the shop that I hadn’t really taken much notice of the route I had taken. I reached into my pocket to pull out my map. It wasn’t there. I must have taken it out at Grace’s.

  Wait, my phone! I’ll call Grace and get directions. I fumbled in my pocket and pulled my mobile out. The screen was blank. I clicked the call button. Still blank. Shit, of course – the battery was dead! How could I be so foolish?

  Don’t panic I told myself. Just retrace your steps. I crossed the road and started to walk past the side streets, reading the road names to try and jog my memory. Longmead Road, Undine Street, Valnay Street. None of them rang any bells
. I continued and decided to take the next left up Vant Road. I got to the T-Junction at Eswyn Road. Left or right? I craned my neck back and forth. That’s when I saw it – the flickering street light! I remembered that.

  I took the left and stood under the flickering light; my hands on my hips scanning my options. I opted for the right up Franciscan Road and kept running. I must have been jogging for two or three minutes when I arrived at a church. I bent over, my hands supporting my body against my knees, trying to catch my breath. I was completely lost. I had no idea where to go; it was hopeless. I looked at the church in front of me. “Why God, why?” I shouted. I don’t know how I thought screaming at a brick building would help. Perhaps I just wanted a sign.

  Then I got it. Or at least I heard it. It was a dog barking, the same barking I had heard earlier. “Thank you, God!” I jumped for joy and started to run towards the barking on Mantilla Road. My feet pounded against the grey pavement for all of 50 yards before the barking was immediately in front of me. I stopped in my tracks; my eyes trying to adjust to the dark shadows of houses that surrounded me. I took a step forward and the bark came through loud and clear once again. I followed the sound and there it was.

  Two eyes peered at me. They looked like two miniature torches glaring off the street lamps. It barked again, but this time with a much deeper and sinister tone to it. The gloss of the dog’s fur beamed off the moonlight. I stopped dead in my tracks. Not 10 feet in front of me appeared the monstrous figure of a bloodthirsty hound the size of a horse, stalking its way toward me.

  “Good doggy,” I pleaded with my hands out as I slowly stepped backwards. The beast stared straight at me and I swear at that precise moment, he grinned at me, before stampeding in my direction.

  I screamed and turned on my heels in the opposite direction back down Mantilla Road, across on to Topsham Road. I kept running, certain the hound was in hot pursuit. I didn’t want to look back. I felt the condoms fall from my pocket, a final condemnation that this night was coming to an end. I raced down to Upper Tooting Road and took a sharp right towards Tooting Bec tube station. My night with Grace was well and truly over.

  Chapter 14: Little White Lie

  Sunday, April 12 - 2.03pm

  Drought Clock: 100 days, 22 hours, 18 minutes

  “Okay,” Rob said putting his pint down and waving his hands. “Let’s get the facts right. Tell us what happened one more time.”

  It was Sunday afternoon, and in my hour of need I had called upon my friends to cheer me up after the debacle of my second date with Grace. We had met in our favourite Sunday afternoon beverage establishment – the Nelson Arms in Clapham Old Town.

  “Things were heating up and I was teasing the hell out of her. Really putting her in the mood,” I launched into my version of events, deciding to omit the truth of how I had fumbled my way through the foreplay. “I was being real naughty, you know what I mean?”

  “Like flicking the bean, and shit like that?” Jack asked, flicking his finger and biting down on his bottom lip.

  “Yeah, if you like Jack,” I said brushing his crude comment to one side. My made-up version was much more adventurous than that. “Anyway, she was bang up for it. Then I realised I didn’t have any condoms with me.”

  “Schoolboy error,” Rob said taking a sip from his pint and shaking his head.

  “I know,” I said, nodding in agreement. “Tell me about it.”

  “So you went bare-back right?” Ollie asked, his eyes locked on me in total concentration.

  “No, I didn’t go bare-back,” I told him. “I played it cool. I told her that perhaps it was a sign we should take things slow. I told her I really liked her and that I respected her. I could tell she was gagging for it after that.”

  “You smooth-talking bastard,” Jack congratulated me.

  “What did she say?” Rob pressed me.

  “She fell in love straight away, and told me she wanted me even more,” I lied again. “I continued to play it cool and said I was going to pop out for another bottle of wine, and when I returned we would make love to each other.”

  “Make love?” Ollie said raising his eyebrows. “That’s a bit gay, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, even girls would find that a bit of a turn-off, mate,” Jack added.

  Damn it, I was losing them in my web of lies. I needed to pull them back in quickly. “Yeah, but when I said make love I was going down on her at the time.”

  “Why didn’t you say?” Jack said. “If you are getting your knees dirty working in the vagtable patch, anything you say is completely acceptable.”

  “But I thought you had told her you wanted to play things cool.” Rob chipped in. “That’s a strange thing to say while you were going down on her, isn’t it?”

  I froze. Rob had me. My lame face-saving story was about to come crashing down around me. I took a drink to try and earn myself a bit of thinking time. Then I had a thought. It was risky but might just work. I placed my pint down as calmly as you like and said: “Hey, what can I say? That’s just how I operate. I'm just that type of guy.”

  “Yes, you are,” Jack said slapping me on the back as Ollie high-fived me. Rob didn’t look as convinced as the others, but that didn’t matter because the odds had swung back in my favour. Phew, that was a close one, I thought, and I dived straight back into my tale.

  “I left the flat and raced down to the local shop. I had a bit of banter with the shopkeeper just so to keep her waiting a bit longer and then headed back with the condoms in my back burner. That’s when it happened.”

  I picked my pint up to build the tension, and took a long gulp. Ollie and Jack were on the edge of their seats, but Rob still looked a bit dubious.

  “What happened?” Rob finally asked. “Please, do tell.”

  That is when I realised I hadn’t really thought this thing through very well. I had no idea where I was going to go with this. It was almost like I was hoping for the closing drumbeats from EastEnders so I could have another 24 hours to plan my next episode. I couldn’t exactly tell my mates this was a cliffhanger and they would have to tune in tomorrow to hear the rest. I could feel their eyes burning into me. I had to say something. Anything.

  “I decided to go home and play hard to get.” Anything but that.

  “What?” By the look on Jack’s face you would have thought I had just revealed I was dating his mother. He was horrified.

  “Why?” Ollie was baffled, and had an expression like I had just asked him to recite his 12-times table.

  Rob sat back and simply took a long gulp from his pint. I couldn’t quite read his reaction, but I was pretty sure it was somewhere in between Jack’s utter disgust and Ollie's total confusion.

  “You know, treat them mean and keep them keen,” I offered weakly. “I sent her a text saying I respected her and that things were moving too fast, and we should go slow.” I knew immediately they hadn’t bought it.

  “I don’t buy it,” Jack confirmed my thoughts. “After all this time of trying to get your end away, you have this sexy chick completely butt-naked ready to rock your knocker, and you decide to play hard to get?”

  “That is definitely a bit gay, mate,” Ollie added.

  Tough crowd. This had definitely gone better in my head. Why hadn’t I just told them the truth? Too late to go back now, I had to just see this through.

  “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see whether I have played a blinder or not then, won’t we?” I said with every ounce of confidence I could conjure up. “I’m meeting her next weekend, and I am willing to bet that she is going to be so up for it by then that she will do anything I want in the sack.” I looked at them all and then said “Anything” once more with real emphasis.

  Slowly I saw the glow of approval grow in Jack and Ollie’s eyes. It was as if I had just hatched the most amazing sex plan ever. A plan that would see me get the dirtiest sex known to man. All I had to do now was find a girl hotter than Grace who was willing to have clumsy sex with me, an
d then I could make up another lie about how I met this even fitter girl and shagged her instead. I congratulated myself on a job well done.

  “Sounds like you have got it all sorted out, mate,” Rob said. I had even managed to convince him. “But the only problem is that you won’t be seeing Grace next weekend, will you?”

  “I don’t follow?” I said hesitantly with my pint glass held to my lips.

  “You seem to forget that I am still in contact with Katie,” Rob said sitting back smugly in his chair. “I spoke to her the other day and she told me that Grace had given her a slightly different version of events.”

  I gulped. This was not good. “Katie said Grace told her that after you left her flat to get the condoms, you never returned. You didn’t text or anything.”

  “Maybe I forgot to text,” I said. “Or maybe I was trying to keep an air of mystery around me,” I offered hopefully as an explanation to try and keep up this pathetic charade.

  “Maybe,” Rob said. “But Grace didn’t forget to send you a text, did she?”

  “No,” I said bowing my head, realising defeat was in sight.

  “What did the text say Dan?” Rob asked.

  “She texted me saying I was a pathetic little man who should not waste her time.”

  “And,” Rob urged me on.

  “And that she would have shagged the life out of me, but I had blown my chance for running away like a little wimp.”

  “I think you had better tell us what really happened,” Rob said, patting and rubbing my back to comfort me as I sat with my head in my hands.

  So I did. I told them how Grace had pounced on me, and how I had fumbled my way through the foreplay. I explained how I had stupidly forgotten to buy condoms because I was so out of practice, and that after racing to the shop to buy some I had got lost and couldn’t remember where she lived.

  “Hold on, let me get this right,” Jack said, not even attempting to hide the grin on his face. “You were on the verge of nailing this chick and then you ran away?”