Trip Start Sep 28, 2011
333Trip End Ongoing
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I can feel myself slipping back into the party hostel debauchery. The Point is pretty notorious for late nights, and considering they have a chain of digs throughout Peru, I could be at this a while. So much for my health streak and training for the Inca hike. They also serve some decent grub, so there is little reason to leave the comfort of it's walls if you've 'done' Lima. I've not done Lima by a long stretch, but I'm hung over so leave me alone. I've returned to dark territory, yet a territory I know well.
It's all kicking off once again as the bar fills with the regulars. Martha and Helen are teasing all the guys in the place with the obligatory demands to make out, and they're only too happy to oblige. It's not until we're being shuttled to the club in the taxi I hear this:
"Stuart; we've got something to tell you" the voice giggles from the back seat.
Apparently I was the only one who didn't know. The whole damn bar was in on the joke, the whole damn day, except for me. I never really thought of myself as that gullible, but fair play to the girls for talking a good game, with the wool well and truly over the eyes. I feign mock horror, convincing the two of them I'm extremely pissed off when in fact I'm obviously utterly delighted.
We're inside a club called Help, but for once I'm not needing it. I'm still playing the fake anger card, so Martha asks what could they do to prove they're not lesbian. She's moved in close, and before I know what the hell is going on she's kissing me. Then I'm kissing Helen. Now this sort of thing has never happened to me in my life, but you'd better believe I was enjoying it. Cat with the cream. It was boding well for the holy grail...
It transpires Helen is 'kind of' seeing someone back home, which basically puts the kibosh on that plan. As I've made a more forward play for her, I've realised I've cock blocked myself yet again by going for the wrong one. I've lost count how many times I've had a couple of irons in the fire, and I can't really make my mind up which to go for. The end of the night comes, I've hesitated, and then all the earlier possibilities are snogging the faces off other guys, leaving me to walk home alone with my dick in my hand. I'm sure I'm not the only one.
With the holy grail slipping away as we're escorted to a burger joint at my request, I munch down on what I think is beef in a roll and contemplate being a twat. Many guys would have no problem jumping to another girl the instant they're turned down, regardless if they're best mates. I tend to take issue with this, and I've never been very good at the so called "scatter-gun" effect. Ask 100 girls for action, one says yes; it's a result. It just feels cheap, smacks of sleaze, and I can't handle the rejection. This is why I gave up being a crap actor.
Tonight however is a different story, and in no way would I be choosing 'second best' if I did go for Martha. To be honest it was practically the flip of a coin anyway, both being very attractive girls. I wanted them both. At the same time. So here I go then, tossing the napkin in the bin and walking alongside her flirting shamelessly. No shame. Devoid of shame. Sans shame. I crush the rising pangs of guilt, silence the voice in my head saying "stop being a nob head" and blatantly demand to kiss her again. "What the hell; I'm in Lima" comes the response, which results in her leaving my room sometime in the early morning. Nothing happened. Honest. I know because Applebury wakes to see the eye bleeding horror that is me in full frontal nudity with not a blanket or a girl in sight. I am my own worst enemy.