A typical Friday night in deepest Chichester. Three girls, none of them exactly in the first bloom of youth, nevertheless are refused service at three seperate bars. Damn girl number one for leaving her passport and driving licence in Wales. Desperate, yet not defeated, three girls go to Tesco Express where they purchase vodka and spare rib flavoured crisps (girl number two will realise at 3am the next morning that the latter were a terrible mistake).
Three girls hurry home with their purchases and sit around the table, pouring them down their respective necks. As their inhibitions dissolve, the conversation takes a turn for the worse. Three girls confess seperately to the following:
* Taking it up the wrong'un
* Having sex in the school common room
* Finding Patrick Turman sexually attractive!?!
Actually I made the last one up. But the piece de resistance was a confession by girl number three at around twelevety o'clock:
"When I was 14, me, my brother and our two cousins (aged 7 and 5) were all messing around on a double bed. We got under the covers and were playfighting. Suddenly, my cousin grabbed my breasts, and not knowing what to do, I just lay there and let him!"
To sum up, girl number three's first experience of light to medium petting was with her seven year old cousin!!
The best bit of the story however comes next day when girl number three is looking through a photo album with her mother and comments how one of her uncle's looks a bit like a sex offender. Her mother disagreed, saying that she thought the breast-grabbing 7 year old (now all grown up) looked a far more likely contender for this title.
I would just like to make it clear at this point that I am not, nor will ever be, girl number three.