admin

The Ex Files part 3: Nightclub naughtinessNames are changed to protect the guilty. Everything else is exactly as I remember it. Whispers was always a terrible nightclub. It was one of those places you would never plan to go to but then after about the fifth drink with the gang after work on a Friday you'd somehow find yourself there anyway. The kind of place where married men would slip their wedding rings into their pocket, buy you drinks you didn't ask for, then call you a bitch if your knicker-elastic didn't instantly dissolve in proximity to a sugary cocktail. The kind of place where divorced women would dress in outfits fifteen years too young for them and two sizes too small, and writhe their hips with ever more salacious, slutty desperation the closer it got to 3am, as the booze and their fear of spending the night alone overcame their self-esteem. You know the kind of place I mean. Gavin was my partner in crime. We worked in different departments at the same company, so we'd only really spend time together when we were socialising. He was really quite camp and when we first met I assumed he was gay. He wasn't, but the last I'd known he had a girlfriend