Skiing day two: On Sunday I decide that if I want to pass the time quicker and possibly have some fun, I need to make up some irrational stories and scenarios in my head, create some intrigue and possibly destroy a few lives. In order to do all this, I choose to obsess over John A. (John A's story here).
John A is not really anything to wrote home about (even though this is literally what I’m doing right now I think), but he looks OK and he has bigger arms than all the other people at the chalet (albeit still smaller than the average gay person) and I think he has good legs too, but I can’t really tell through the skiing trousers. Not to mention that he keeps telling us the story about how big his feet are, which to me means that he’s looking for something in that chalet, something that his fiancée Emma! simply can’t provide.
So following this decision the highlight of Sunday for me comes when, walking past John A and Emma!’s room, Matty and I overhear Emma! shout the desperate plea: “SPEED IT UP! SPEED IT UP”, which no matter how you take it cannot be a good sign for their relationship.
Could it be that Emma! wants to take her turn in the shower and is asking him to get on with it, could it be that John A simply can’t go fast enough leaving Emma! constantly unsatisfied, could it be that they are both DJ’s and are mixing some tracks in their room putting down some beats which are not cutting it for Emma!, could it be that John A cannot operate Emma!’s vibrator? Any of these are enough to drive him into my arms.
Despite these positive signs, the plan doesn’t get to an amazing start as I miss a perfect opportunity at dinner time, when the lights go out for 3-4 minutes. Against expectations I do not make my move then and I am not found on John A’s lap making out with him when the lights come back on.
What does happen though is that the following day at lunchtime Matty, Nicole and I share a restaurant table with John A and Emma! and when John A walks away to go snowboarding leaving a half-eaten sausage sandwich behind, a) I take a picture of it and b) take a bite of it. I can’t think of a more accurate description of this, than that I have done as good as kiss him.
And here’s the half-eaten sandwich with John A’s bite marks on it plus some leftover grease on the napkin.