THE FLOOD

I celebrated my quarter century birthday just a few weeks ago now – here’s to 25! Had myself a little soirée, the whole grazing platter with bottomless wine in the company of my nearest and dearest minus the significant other because well, dating is just a bit of a foreign concept a present.

A guy I had swiped right a few months earlier and had met a handful of times for pure sexually explicit purposes was eager to attend my birthday celebrations. With mutual friends in attendance, I figured it wouldn’t be all that bad – but boy was I wrong.

Arriving high and drunk, this gentleman was friendly with my guests, however people begun to notice his physical state and comments arose. After some time, I witnessed him consume more drugs only for him to wound up in my shower, naked and sitting on top of the drain as he water ran at the highest pressure level.

You can only guess what happened next right? My ensuite flooded, including a small portion of my bedroom carpet and his clothes. The clean up was easy, just a dozen towels added to my washing basket – nothing too major.

It is not hard to guess my emotional state of happy drunk to a bewildered drunk confronting a heavily medicated and intoxicated male who has a pile of wet clothes and refused to leave without dry clothes. Now, before I continue with the remainder of this story, I think its imperative that I inform you that I am only five-foot-six and this male was six-foot-ten.

So whilst he became angered at my request for him to depart my home, I was also cowered in the corner following threats to become violent if I did not supply him with dry clothes. He indulged in sharing snapchats of his evening with god knows who, but I aimed to cover my face every time the camera pointed in my direction. He felt the honest need to document his eviction, laughing on camera and then using vulgar language off camera to demonstrate his annoyance and anger.

He refused to admit fault, insisting the flooded bathroom was my fault and my responsibility as he was a guest. Threats to contact the police following further refusal to depart became a laughing joke, insisting that my eviction of a naked man with wet clothes was much worse than his intoxication and medicated level and his professional career.

This encounter definitely dulled my mood and ruined my evening. My eagerness to date and attach myself to a man plummeted and the best part is, I parted ways with my favourite pair of tracksuit pants that I will never see again.

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