Dave’s Christmas Past
Christmas is a time for family, and giving. Not to mention drinking and eating lots.
For Dave, one particular Christmas involved perhaps a bit too much of all. He had been invited to spend Christmas day with his girlfriend and her family. He’d been dating Charlotte for about six months, and things seemed to be going well enough – they’d even talked about moving in together in the near future.
It started going wrong on Christmas Eve. Dave went out for a pre-Christmas drink with his friends and wound up getting a bit more drunk than was advisable! He staggered back home, where he still lived with his parents after finishing University and passed out face down on his bed.
The next morning, he awoke to a crucifying hangover and countless text messages from Charlotte to ensure he knew when to arrive at her parents’ house. The gist was to be there at around eleven in the morning. Dave glanced at the time through squinting eyes, trying to limit the amount of bright light flooding into the room through his window, thanks mostly to his mum yanking the curtains open at some ungodly hour (9am). To his horror, it was ten to! He peeled his face off the pillow, and stood up far too quickly for his delicate state. He fought off the wave of sickness that overcame him and then panicked – he had ten minutes to get washed, dressed and travel the fifteen minutes to Charlotte’s parents’ house. He got himself showered and dressed in record time and picked up the carrier bag that he thought contained the presents. He wished his parents a happy Christmas and told them he’d be back in the morning.
He opened the front door and was greeted with the horrifying sight of three inches of snow – the sun reflected off the crisp white surface and Dave immediately went back in to fetch his sunglasses. He drove slowly to his destination, battling the snow and his hangover. He arrived, only half an hour late, to a stern expression from Charlotte. Her family seemed to be none-the-wiser, themselves already having opened the sherry. Dave was made to sit down in the lounge with Martin, Charlotte’s dad, while she helped her mum in the kitchen. Martin was a bit wary of Dave already, after a calamitous first meeting where Dave had accidentally driven over one of his favourite shrubs trying to park on the driveway.
Dave sat on the sofa by the window, his sunglasses still on, cradling the carrier bag in his arms. He felt about as comfortable as the time when, aged four, he wet himself on stage during a school nativity play. Thankfully, Charlotte and her mum came to his rescue by joining them soon after. Charlotte sat herself down next to her dad and her mum joined Dave on his sofa. Dave was still astonished at how similar Charlotte and her mum looked, especially from distance. Marion – that was Charlotte’s mum insisted Dave called her – patted his knee and outlined the day’s timetable. Lunch was at One o’clock, then after the Queen, it would be presents time and then out for a walk before tea.
Dave was plied with more drink, slowly topping up his alcohol levels from the night before. He made it through lunch without any mishaps, and was feeling quite amorous towards Charlotte, who was wearing a nice, clingy dress and patterned tights. Her hair fell loosely on her shoulders, just how he liked it. Charlotte and her mum cleared the table, leaving Dave to make conversation with Martin, who was now a little less guarded.
Then, Dave needed to go for a wee. It came on quite suddenly, so after getting directions to the downstairs toilet, he excused himself from the table and answered nature’s call. On his return, Martin had left the table, and he heard two voices in the lounge. Dave followed the clink of crockery to the kitchen, and saw a female stood at the sink washing up. From behind, Dave admired his girlfriend’s backside, then, with the alcohol egging him on, he tiptoed up behind her and gave her bottom a squeeze. To his horror, it wasn’t Charlotte that turned round with a pair of soapy marigolds, but her mum! Dave retreated, apologising profusely, but was quite surprised when Marion simply smiled at him and gave him a wink. He turned tail and went to the lounge, where Charlotte and her dad were struggling to get into a tin of Roses. Charlotte commented on Dave’s pale complexion, but he shrugged it off.
After the Queen’s Christmas message, Marion clapped her hands together and announced it was time for presents. Dave reached for his carrier bag, and looked inside, as you do, and to his horror, realised he had picked up the wrong bag. He went even paler and tried to hide the bag. Unfortunately, Marion saw him and misreading his embarrassment, she snatched it before he could take evasive action. She delved in and pulled out a DVD case. She held it up and read out the title – ‘Sex Mad Housewives’. Dave looked down at his feet, but could feel three pairs of eyes fixed firmly on him. He didn’t look up as he heard the unmistakeable sound of another root in the bag. ‘Hardcore Milfs’ was next out, followed by ‘Nymphomaniacs From Space’. The silence which followed was more painful than when Dave had got candle wax on his privates during a candlelight moment of passion with an ex-girlfriend.
Finally, Dave could bear the silence no more. He attempted to explain that he had mistakenly picked up the wrong bag at home – this was a bag meant for the bin, and there was a carrier bag full of presents back at home. He thought he was getting somewhere, until Marion held up the ‘Hardcore Milfs’ box and told him if he thought he could have sex with her as well as Charlotte, then he was watching far too much of the stuff. That was when the arse grabbing came up.
Dave left the house alone, and newly single. Although rather unexpectedly, Charlotte’s mum kept the porn DVDs…