Dec 2012 On a last minute impulse, I head for Sin City with a few (very straight) mates. One brings along a ‘family friend since way back’. He’s a nice guy – I’ve met him at parties previously, but never had much to do with him. He’s good looking in a local way, nicely built and funny. Let’s call him “The Friend”.
After landing, we head to the hotel, where we proceed to drink, laugh and talk until sun-up, when we head for our respective rooms. Shortly thereafter there is a banging on my door and it’s one of my mates, holding a bottle of champagne. I let him in, but inform him I am both drunk and tired and going back to bed. “No problem” he says as he gets some glasses from the cabinet, and follows me into the bedroom. I am a bit surprised by this, but he cheerfully opens the fizz, kicks off his shoes and climbs into bed with me. We actually had a lovely morning drinking champagne, watching local MTV and talking. Our wives were amused to learn of this (via many a ribald SMS), but not so much the Friend, which I didn’t quite understand until later.