It was going to be a good weekend as far as I was concerned. There were big games being played on both Saturday and Sunday and I had tickets to both of them. I fronted up to Saturday's game and it was a doozy, made all the better by the right team winning.
I bumped into George while at the game and we watched the game together.
"So," says George when we were leaving. "What are your plans for the evening?"
"The pub, some beer, and some snooker," I told him.
"I have to admit that that sounds like a reasonable plan," George said. "Any objections to me joining you?"
"Not on my part," I admitted, "but I suspect Heather may have some."
Heather was his wife. A lovely little thing, sweet and kind, with a very nice figure. She hated me. For some reason, whenever we were near each other, the hackles on the back of our necks rose and you could hear growling rumbling deep in our throats. We'd never actually come to blows but both of us had delivered a few telling insults. Why did we react like that to each other? Damned if I know and I'll bet Heather didn't know either. We just did.
"Heather," said George, with a confident air of superiority, "will do what I want."
"What? She's not home or something?"
"Ah, yeah. Her mother was off-colour and she's spending the weekend with her. She won't be back until tomorrow afternoon."
"Then by all means, join me for a beer and some pool."
We went to the pub and we had a couple of beers and played pool, generally having an enjoyable time. When I say a couple of beers I mean just that as we were both driving. When we were finally ready to quit for the night George suggested I crash at his place.
"Save you having to drive home and we can go to tomorrow's game together."
I lived a fair way out so it seemed a reasonable idea to me, especially as Heather wouldn't be there. I followed him home and crashed in the spare room.
I hadn't even got to sleep before I was screaming and diving for the toilet where I proceeded to void both stomach and bowels in a horrible fashion. George hadn't got to sleep yet and he naturally popped out to see what the commotion was about.
"Geez, mate, is green your normal colour after a couple of beers?" he asked me. "If so, you need to stay off the grog."
"It wasn't the beers, damn you," I snarled at him. "It was that fucking hot-dog you suggested we buy."
"Hey, don't blame me," he said, grinning like a buffoon. "I had a souvlaki and I'm fine. I told you the souvlaki was the better option."
The fact that he had advised the souvlaki didn't make me feel any happier.
"I'm going back to bed," I told him. "Hopefully I've got rid of the offending material and will be right in the morning. Just don't wake me early."
"No problems, mate," he said, heading back to his own bed, laughing as he went. Bastard.
He let me sleep, thank god, and I was feeling a hundred percent when I finally woke up. I was shocked to see that it was just past mid-day. That damned hot-dog had really knocked me about. Fine now, however, and hungry. There was a note lying on top of my trousers where I couldn't miss it.
'Todd, a semi-trailer took out a main support at the King's Road overpass and they're afraid the whole thing is going to come down. I've been summoned for emergency measures and will be tied up all day. George.
P.S. Grab my ticket and give it to some deserving kid at the game. I'll leave it on my dressing table.'
It seemed the life of a civil engineer wasn't all nine-to-five. I sympathized with George but decided I'd better get dressed and get a move on if I wanted to make the game. Actually, I had a couple of hours but parking could be a bitch.
I splashed water on my face to help me wake up a bit more and got dressed. Then I wandered down to the main bedroom to grab George's ticket.
I walked into the main bedroom and got a hell of a shock. I'd always thought that Heather had a nice figure and the proof of it was now lying before me. Heather was flat on her back, reading a book, lying there with her legs slightly parted. Not a stitch on. Stark staring naked, and I was doing my best not to stare. Who am I kidding? Of course I was staring.
Her breasts had flattened somewhat under the effects of gravity but it was still plain she had a decent amount there and all of it natural. She had a little arrow of fuzz on her mons, pointing to her slit, the whole of which was on display, due to her parted legs.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, finding her asking the same question at almost the same time.
"Well?" she prodded when I didn't answer.
"I asked first," I pointed out, which I had, even if it was only just.
"Me? I live here, remember. You don't."
"But you're at your mother's place and aren't due back until this afternoon. How is she, by the way?"
"She's fine. A twenty-four hour thing, apparently. In case you're in a time-warp may I point out it is the afternoon. You still haven't said what you're doing here."
"Oh, I'm on my way to the game. Just grabbing George's ticket seeing he can't use it."
"What? Why can't he use it? I thought he was at the game. How did you get in, anyway?"
"Oh, I crashed here last night. Saved me going home. I was going to the game with George."
Heather was starting to look a little confused.
"Maybe I'd better explain," I told her. I crashed here last night as I said. Unfortunately I came down with a bout of food-poisoning, which George found very funny, curse him." (I heard a "non-fatal, unfortunately," when I mentioned the food-poisoning.) "George promised not to wake me in the morning so I could sleep off the after effects. When I woke up a short while ago I found a note from George saying he had to go to work and to grab his ticket and give it to someone at the game."
"It's Sunday. George never works on a Sunday."
"He does when his precious bridge starts to fall down," I told her. "Apparently a semi took out one of the main pylons and they're a little bit worried."
