After collecting our jackets we ventured back out onto the frosty streets of Riga. Through the alcoholic haze I attempted to
devise a plan that would see Girl#1 inside my hostel without her friend within
the next half an hour. Before I had time to come up with anything the three of
us noticed a fight in the street up ahead. A small crowd of people had gathered
around to watch, but under the strict commands of my penis I was to
casually continue walking.
“Oh a
fight! We have to go watch it!” Squealed Girl#1’s friend.
I turned to Girl#1 and gave her an ‘Is she
serious?’ face.
“She
loves to watch fights so just give her a minute and then we can keep walking.”
Said Girl#1 after sensing I wasn’t overly pleased with the idea.
As we walked closer to the commotion I
noticed that one of the fighters bared a strikingly similar resemblance to
that of David’s. He ticked all of the boxes: Lanky, long dreadlocks, olive complexion.
“HOLY SHIT, that’s my friend!”
I maneuvered my way through the onlookers
to find the man David was fighting was a drunk Russian. The Russian’s shirt had been torn off, his front teeth had been knocked out, he was covered in blood and
understandably he didn’t seem overly happy about it. As I arrived David was
punched to the ground so I tried to defuse the situation by wrapping my arms
around the bloody Russian in an attempted bear hug. With my jumper now covered
in blood I too was pushed onto the frosty cobblestone. It became increasing
obvious to the audience that I had never been in a street fight in my life, but
I wasn’t about to let a Russian psychopath beat the shit out of David.
Two police officers arrived to find David
and I covered in Russian blood. From the officer’s point of view it would seem
as if we had kicked the shit out of the Russian, however this wasn’t the case.
After David lost me inside of the club he
bumped into the Russian inside the club’s bathroom. The Russian had already
been severely beaten and in his delusional state was accusing David of being
responsible for his injuries. David ignored him and made his way back onto the
dance-floor only to find he was being followed. The Russian would continue
following him until he eventually snapped.
“Okay
cunt, you want to fight? Let’s fucking fight. Let's go outside right fucking now!”
David was eventually arrested after many
failed attempts to plead our case. I on the other hand, much to the delight of
my penis, was free to go. So after a minor setback we continued on our way to
the hostel.
My mind was working at full speed trying to
figure out a way to get rid of Girl#1’s friend. Killing her would obviously
land me in jail, but I would still have time to have sex with Girl#1 before I
was eventually arrested, however I don’t see how the sex with this girl could
be so mind blowing that it would have been worth spending the rest of my life
in prison for. I also don’t think she would be in the mood to bang just after I had
murdered her friend. I was too drunk to think of anything
sensible.
As we approached my hostel I had all but given up on getting her
alone inside my dorm room. As we chatted about the night's events and exchanged Facebooks I heard the trotting of leather on cobblestone; someone was running
up the street towards the hostel.
“Gavin! Gavin! Gavin!” The man shouted. It
was Richard the Canadian.
The two girls and I stopped mid-conversation and directed all of our attention to the panicked Canadian’s
screams. Richard arrived at the front of the hostel with eyes that were
noticeably dilated. Before we could open
our mouths he began explaining his night after I had lost him inside of the
club.
“Duuuuude, I’m being chased by a security
guard!”
“What do you mean?” I replied eager to hear
his explanation.
“I’m being chased by a security guard! I
was approached by two of the hottest girls I have ever seen at the club and
they asked me if I wanted to join them for lines of cocaine in their hotel
room. I was too drunk to realise how suspiciously good it sounded. After two,
maybe three lines of coke they suggested I buy them two bottles of the hotel’s
champagne in return.”
I began to realise where this story was
going.
“When the champagne arrived to the hotel
room a security guard handed me a bill demanding the equivalent of one thousand
Canadian Dollars. I panicked, man, I panicked! I punched the security guard in
the face and ran for my life!”
After calming Richard down, I strategically
introduced him to Girl#1’s friend. Richard, still high on free cocaine, became
increasingly interested in my target’s friend, which gave me an opportunity to
ask Girl#1 if she wanted to see how ‘cool’ the hostel’s sauna was. She obliged
so enthusiastically that it was as if she’d never seen one before.
With Richard and Girl#1’s friend in deep
discussion I snuck Girl#1 past the hostel’s reception, up the stairs and into
the sauna. Within minutes our layers of clothing covered the sauna floor like
thick furry carpet.
“Come to mama!” Said Girl#1 as she guided
my cock into her freshly waxed vagina.
David spent the night in jail and months
later, was sent a letter of apology from the Latvian government.
- Gavin Madden
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