Get your beak into every social group possible. That’s always been my theory. It’ll usually end up being a jolly good laugh.

Most of the time this theory holds true, but of course with every hypothesis there is the exception that proves the rule….

Last Friday, when my mate Adriana called and said she was heading down to the bar where the work dudes and I were having a drink, I didn’t take a moment to blink. The people I work with are a darn good chuckle, so I wasn’t worried that they were all strangers to her….and nor was she.

You see Adriana is famous for one thing – her ability to pull -and you know me, I make a career out of flirting, so if I say she’s good, she’s good. I would have done very well to remember this…

The normal humans amongst us join a group of people we’ve never met on social tiptoes – creeping around the edges until we’re sure we won’t get stomped upon.

But not Adriana, by crikey no. She scampered over, nodded a quick “How’s ya” in my direction and clocked Matt, the hottest chap in the marketing department. Without uttering a peep she took herself to the bar, came back a few minutes later and perched herself next to him….

“So mister” she whispered “ I don’t know who you are but I hope you like your nipples slippery”. ………and handed him a large shot of the cocktail with the same name. Flippin’ Heckery! My shells nearly dropped off in shock!

Well that was that. Matt, being a bloke, instantly fell for her charms. When I left the bar a couple of hours later she was seductively feeding him Pork Scratchings as if in a bizarre version of an Antony and Cleopatra movie. Weird.

But as I mentioned at the start – this is what Adriana is famous for, so there wasn’t a bum’s twitch of surprise that she’d pulled and as far as I was concerned, as long as they had a good night it was all dandy.

Of course you know this isn’t how this ended. Oh no.

The next day, as always, good old Adriana buzzed me up to give me the gory details… I should have stopped her, I should have known…

However, on God’s green earth, did she expect me to go to work the following day and have a serious conversation about ‘representational graphs’ with a man who I now know has a tank of garden slugs, yes, slugs! in his bedroom. And that after he undressed the freak removed said slimebags and placed several upon his own chest in order to enjoy the sensation of them crawling across his body during their ‘romp’.

Poor old Adriana, this was a shock even for her.

Still, I suppose that’s all you can expect if you meet a fit chap and kick off the conversation with a query about his interest in slippery nipples…

Eurrghhhh.

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