I was out in town, everyone else massively lost at this point, and probably gone home, so I flagged down a taxi. My money spent on drinks, I tell him I have some at home.
You got a cash card? He asks.
Why yes, I say.
So get some out, he says.
We stop in Levenshulme for me to get cash. I get out all cool, like I actually have something in my bank account, but then I just fucking run.
I’m lost in this barbaric maze estate having run away after doing something bad; a feeling which is all too familiar. I’m at the age where most people have stopped doing this, or made it their career.
I make it back to the A6 and figure I could just do this again, all the way home, and be alright. So I’m flagging down taxis, then anyone, and eventually this guy stops.
We’re driving, I’m hitchhiking I guess, and he starts rubbing my leg.
He says how would you feel if I started sucking your dick?
I say, Well I’m not gay.
Me neither, he says.
I just like feeling men go hard in my hand.
I like giving pleasure, he tells me. I felt bad, because he was 40 something, obviously lonely, and he’d worked at the set up and he offered me a blowjob and probably thought I’d be like Yeah! But I was like Nah; I’m ok, so I asked if he did this a lot, driving up and down to pick people up. Then I asked if he’d heard of the internet because there’s probably websites he could do stuff like this.
Actually I feel quite uncomfortable now, I’ll just get out up here, I said.
No, look, I’m sorry, he says, I didn’t mean to freak you out. Where do you live? I’ll give you a lift.
I was maybe four miles from home; I was staying with a friend, so he dropped me off.
It was about 6:30am.