For reasons u won’t go into, it had been a shit day at the coal face of family life. One of the worst. I would normally have been going to a fitness training session in the evening, and in the context of the earlier domestic fracas, I certainly wasn’t going to miss that. If nothing else, there was a chance that one of my best mates would be there, we’d go for a pint after, and I could whine about my misfortune to him. Politically, not staying home to talk things through and … and make up? … frankly I couldn’t have been less interested.

I went training, my friend was there, and we went for a pint.

He has some big stuff going on in his life at the moment, and disappointingly our conversation was almost exclusive focused on that. When the barman rang the bell to tell the assembled drinkers it was time to fuck off home, we slowly made our way towards the door.

I had vaguely noticed the 5 occupants of the table next to us as we supped our beer, but not paid them too much attention. For the sake of simplicity, let’s call Bloke and his girlfriend, Blokette, Chap and his girlfriend, Chappette, and Gooseberry, who didn’t have a girlfriend with him. They were all in their early 30s and all bristling with youth, enthusiasm and beauty, though not in an offensive way. As they put on their coats, I couldn’t help notice Bloke gave Blokette a hearty slap on her arse. It was a gesture that really belonged in the 1980s, but I guessed she was just an old fashioned gal as there was no obvious objection.

At the exit, Gooseberry held the door open for his companions, hugging each one in turn as they left the bar. It created a bit of a bottle neck and my friend and I had to queue to leave. When they had moved outside, Gooseberry jokingly held out his arms and invited me to give him a hug too. Not being one to turn down the joking dare of a complete stranger, I obliged and we gave each other a big man-hug.

Once out of the door …
Chappette: Ooh, can I have a hug too?
Me: You wouldn’t want to. We’ve been getting very sweaty.
We had, had not had the opportunity for showers, and I knew damn well I was just a little fragrant.
Chappette: I don’t mind.
Not being one to turn down the flirtatious dare of a complete stranger, especially an attractive red-head …
Me: If you insist.
… I stepped forward and we momentarily wrapped our arms around each other. As we embraced her sizeable tit squashed against my chest.
Chappette (sensing the truth in my protestation): Phew, you have, haven’t you?!
Me: Yeah, sorry, but I did warn you.
As we parted laughing, and my friend and I crossed the road, I turned to him.
Me: I’d like to say that was the highlight of my day, but frankly I’m a bit underwhelmed.
He laughed.
Me: Still, it was nice to be asked.
Him: Townsville is full of friendly people.

The sad and slightly surprising truth is that it was underwhelming. An charming young(er than me) woman had asked me for a hug. A woman who, had the circumstances been different and the opportunity arisen, I wouldn’t have had to think twice about getting naked with. A woman with red hair, for which I have a mild fetish. (There’s something extremely tantalizing about ginger pubes!) A woman who’s boob yielded against me in a way that I have missed for too long. And I was underwhelmed. Amused and aware, but not aroused.

Perhaps it was the weight of the clouds that hung above my head.
Perhaps I’m getting old.
Perhaps there are too many scars between the contents of my rib cage and the soft flesh that was pressed against it.

3 Responses to “Underwhwealming”

  1. I’m sorry AM. Sorry that you didn’t get a chance to unload your worries with your friends, sorry you felt underwhelmed.
    I must say though that I, too, had a thing for red heads, at least in my youth.
    Hugs (the non sweaty kind please, always nicer for a first time!)

  2. Maybe it was the pints?

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