So I spent Christmas Eve at home with the family. Then I went out.
Lat and his Lot (not their real names) had decided on a fun boys’ night out at Thumper at Goodwood Park Hotel. So I invited myself along. It’s always fun being out with Lat and his Lot. You’re almost guaranteed to drink a lot, and you get to have strength in numbers when ogling at women, and if you’re adequately inebriated, you get to have strength in numbers when trying to chat up the women you’ve ogled at.
To generate some pre-going out hype, I told Lat and his Lot a story I heard a couple of days ago about something that happened at Thumper. In the car park at Goodwood Park Hotel, to be precise.
The car park behind the hotel is quite brightly lit these days, and it was to my friend’s (who told me the story) shock that she saw a parked Porsche* carrying a man in the driver’s seat carrying a woman riding astride him moving up and down and down and up. All while people were making their way to their cars after a party at Thumper last Saturday. The friend who told me the story was just as shocked when I told her if I had a Porsche, I’d want to be the man in the driver’s seat with a woman riding astride me, and that I’d even roll down the window and stick my face out just so people making their way to their cars would know it’s me.
Neither me nor Lat or any of his Lot own a Porsche or anything that comes close, so our chances of pulling that trick weren’t very high. Still, we had our fun drinking enough to want to chat up some women, asking them if they’d ride astride any one of us if any one of us owned a Porsche that was parked outside. Unfortunately, the music playing was a bit loud, so the women couldn’t hear us very well.