I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar.
No, actually I was working in an airport putting bags on planes. I was on summer cover while on a school holidays. I should have been revising for the exams I was about to fail, but the lure of minimum wage and unsocial hours proved too much.
I was a very naïve 17-year-old and unknowingly the subject for a local air stewardess’ affections. I was shy, polite and always laughed at her jokes, never thinking there was a chance of anything “adult” and even less aware that all of the permanent baggage handlers were in on it.
The stewardess was a thin leggy blonde-haired girl who would not look out of place on a reality TV show. She never stopped talking and laughing at her own jokes. All of the full-time staff, mainly tough heavily tattooed men with beer guts and permanent stubble would have killed to go out with her and here I was, totally oblivious to her intentions.
The Stewardess invited me to her birthday party, which wasn’t far from my neighbourhood so I agreed to go. As parties go, it was predictably average.
I was a part-time underage drinker whose palette stretched to Budweiser or Miller Genuine Draft cans in the park. I got an older looking mate who had a leather biker jacket which added to the ruse that he was 18 to get me a sixer of whatever was on offer. Not knowing anyone at the party I set about the beer – quickly finishing it – to avoid awkward conversation. I was offered my choice of the over-sweet Bacardi mixer drinks and sickly rosé wine.
My bladder was not used to such excesses and I went upstairs for a slash. The stewardess met me outside the toilet and pounced, hauling me into the nearest bedroom and pushing me onto the bed. I was blissfully numbed by the Lambrusco and sugary alcopops.
A goateed guy, who had engaged me in conversation downstairs, popped his head round the door and saw her on top of me, kissing and moaning passionately. I had my eyes wide open and a mouth full of her tongue.
He creased up and called downstairs, “I think we’re going to have to rescue the young pup.”
We eventually joined the rest of the party downstairs and Goatee cheered my return patting me on the back.
At around 1-ish, everyone decided to call it a night. My parents and brother were in Glasgow for the week and for some reason I was adamant I had to go home.
Stewardess said she would come too.
With my limited income and habit of cycling everywhere, I thought taxis were a great extravagance, so I said I was walking. She said she would walk with me. I think we had been walking for half-an-hour when she had enough and took off her high heels and flagged down a taxi. We got to my house and went straight to bed.
I woke up fully clothed, my purity in tact.
For 24 hours…