"I slept with your grandmother" (Short version) (719 hits)
Category: GeneralRating: 1.92 on 11 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Smooth_Shoes (View user info) at 2006-03-01 10:36:08 EST
Having lived in London all my life I was invited to spend a weekend in the British countryside. The problem was, that the invitation was from Pete.
Some people you just cannot forget. They somehow carve just themselves into your memory. Pete was such a person. A simple, loyal and ever so slightly disturbed, young man. He was the graffiti on the London underground that was just plain irritating but you just got used to. People called him Chlamydia, which he thought was funny and ironic because he was a virgin. We knew it was because he was an irritating prick. It wasn't that Pete was a bad person by any means; in fact he was a great guy. He just did things that made you question his family history and made you worry every time he had something heavy in his hand.
He had invited my friend Gregg and I to his family home. He had described his home to be a haven, full of luscious green grass and noble farm animals wandering majestically through the fields.
Gregg drove the three of us to Pete's family home. He directed us to the back garden where we parked the car. Pete's family came out to welcome us. This is the point we should have started to worry.
We were standing in Glastonbury quality mud, in between two caravans and in front of us a goat was tied to the garden fence. As Gregg and I stared at this goat who was probably on a diet of Lucozade and LSD's, Pete screamed "Mum, did you tie up Beyoncé again?"
Pete untied the goat and we were greeted by his parents. Pete's Dad waddled over to us. Pete's dad looked like he could have been a direct descendant of Attila the Hun. Much interbreeding and genetic dilution over many generations meant that he didn't have a fiery temper nor any attributable mongoloid characteristics, what did remain however a penchant for small furry hats.
Pete headed towards one of the caravans and beckoned us to follow. It hit us. Pete lived in a caravan in his own back garden. We looked upon this as his sense of freedom. He gave us 'the tour'. We rotated 360 degrees. He told us that his brother was away for the week so there was an empty room in the caravan.
We spent that sunny Friday afternoon in his back garden drinking some obscure beer. Gregg swigged his beer and whispered to me, "It's like making love in a canoe. Fucking close to water". I stared at the 2.9% beer and I agreed, but we couldn't turn down this poor boys hospitality.
We decided to call it a night and went back into the caravan. Pete showed us to our room. It was the kind of room even midgets would describe as 'cosy'. On one side of the room was a row of wardrobes and on the other, a singe bed. Pete reckoned we could both get into the bed. We didn't mind this too much so, Pete showed us where we could put our stuff.
We opened a drawer in the nightstand to put in our keys and stuff. No such luck, it was full to the brim, with photos. Hundreds of photos, of kittens. Pete's brother was 29 and now evidently a raving loony. Maybe he just replied to the 'Get more pussy than you can handle' spam email.
Pete opened one of the cupboards to reveal a stash of old board games. We took a closer look at these antique beauties. Pete got excited and started showing us the games, pointing to the boxes one by one. In between 'Ghost castle' and 'Hungry, Hungry Hippos' was nestled a small wooden box upon which he knocked; rat-a-tat-tat.
"And that's my Gran" he announced, with such passing ease that we stood there, slack jawed unable to utter a word. We did wonder for a second if this family took Cluedo a little too seriously.
Gregg and I lay there spooning in this single bed, surrounded by the presence of Granny dust. We said nothing but I knew we were thinking the same thing. No matter how weird Pete was, he was sound asleep in his comfy bed. It was us, who were spooning in a caravan in the middle of a mud farm, with hundreds of kitty pictures and sleeping with his Grandmother.
I don't think I'll forget Pete.
User Reviews
Submitted by Drawstring (user info) at 2006-03-10 09:12:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Quality
Submitted by stardamage (user info) at 2006-03-01 22:44:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice!
This reminded me of a few years ago when my friend's parents acquired a caravan during the summer (one of their acquaintances left it with them for some reason after he'd lived in it and then neglected to clean it out). Jamie and I figured we could clean it up and use it ourselves.
Unfortunately it was summer and not all of the food had been cleaned out yet (mostly dry cereal, but we're talking months of it being left alone) and mice had taken up residence at some point...there weren't any in there while we were cleaning but there was old mouse crap everywhere, with the sun shining right down on the caravan all the damn time. The stench was epic. There were old, mildewey clothes everywhere, too, and the toilet hadn't been cleaned in god knows how long. It took us the better part of two days to "clean" it, which meant that finally we could go in there without having to have all the windows open and three fans working to prevent fainting from the smell.
We never really did use it after that, though, which kind of sucks.
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-03-01 18:02:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Go on then. Maybe I was harsh.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2006-03-01 17:52:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by recall (user info) at 2006-03-01 17:46:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by AshK (user info) at 2006-03-01 17:34:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by icarus1987 (user info) at 2006-03-01 13:54:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Decent read
Submitted by xanderd (user info) at 2006-03-01 12:19:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent! I could have read more of the same!
redskieslookfake youre just a perfectionist :-)
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-03-01 10:47:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Pete untied the goat and we were greeted by his parents. Pete's Dad waddled over to us. Pete's dad looked like he could have been a direct descendant of Attila the Hun. Much interbreeding and genetic dilution over many generations meant that he didn't have a fiery temper nor any attributable mongoloid characteristics, what did remain however a penchant for small furry hats.
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Douglas Adams there. This was not as good as your first post. It feels rushed. Just because I'm shouting at you to post again doesn't mean you have to! A touch disjointed too.
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-03-01 10:47:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Pete untied the goat and we were greeted by his parents. Pete's Dad waddled over to us. Pete's dad looked like he could have been a direct descendant of Attila the Hun. Much interbreeding and genetic dilution over many generations meant that he didn't have a fiery temper nor any attributable mongoloid characteristics, what did remain however a penchant for small furry hats.
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Douglas Adams there. This was not as good as your first post. It feels rushed. Just because I'm shouting at you to post again doesn't mean you have to! A touch disjointed too.
Submitted by HighVoltage900 (user info) at 2006-03-01 10:46:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Much interbreeding and genetic dilution over many generations meant that he didn't have a fiery temper nor any attributable mongoloid characteristics, what did remain however a penchant for small furry hats
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AUTO +2. Now back to finish reading it.