Sometime ago, I believe it may have been February 2008, my friend Elliott Egan threw a little house party and I was invited. I arrived along with my other friend Ben Wood and, at the start of the evening, everything seemed as if it was all going nice and smoothly.
However, there was one snag: I’d forgotten to put on a belt before I left and my jeans were a little bit loose. Now, this wouldn’t normally be a problem, a party is, after all, mainly a matter of just sitting down and socialising. But it just so happens that back then, I knew a girl who seemed to have a strange interest in pulling down my trousers whenever she could. Apparently, I secretly liked it… I won’t mention her name, because since then she’s apologised for doing it and I wouldn’t like to embarrass her with this entry.
Anyway, it just so happens that she eventually realised that I was belt-less, I can’t remember how, but it was over four years ago, so hopefully I can be forgiven for small gaps in my memory. Anyway, once it was realised and the trouser-yanker was after me, I decided I would hide outside in the garden, but she quickly followed me out there and, since it was dark and a garden I was unfamiliar with, I was quickly cornered.
“Maybe we should go back inside and get back to the party along with everybody else,” I suggested.
She didn’t give a verbal response, she just looked at me and gave an evil grin.
I took a step back, but she took a lunge forward, grabbing onto my trousers.
“I’d prefer it if you didn’t pull them down today,” I said. “I mean, aside from the fact that I already don’t like it, today it’s also very cold outside, so it’s even worse than usual.”
But, unfortunately, she overcame me and down came my jeans (which, very, very unfortunately, brought down my boxer shorts with them) then, since I was I was holding my trousers, I fell down onto the floor too. Luckily, I was wearing a rather big shirt, so I was able to use that to retain my modesty from all of the people watching the spectacle through the window. The girl ran away and I was left by myself.
I shuffled away and moved to a spot where I didn’t think anybody could see me. Then, confident I was safe, I restored my clothes to how they should be. I looked up and saw that a small group of three people had been watching. Oh dear. And there you have it, another unfortunate incident at a crazy party. Every time I go to these parties, a part of me thinks ‘why?’ Get it? “Party”, “Part – y”, “Part (of me thinks) y?” couldn’t resist tacking that pun onto the end!
