Lost & Found

Ah, remember those carefree days of your twenties? The times when hangovers didn’t seem to hurt, all clothes looked good on you and carbs were one’s friends? Perhaps you are still in your twenties, in which case, this story will be shared wisdom from an elder millennial. If you are in the 80’s kids club with me, you know that life happens. Let us be transferred to the beautiful pre-pandemic life, where unsolicited grinding, yelling into people’s faces at a crowded bar and dancing until feet gave in was known as just another Friday night. At the time when all of this happened, I lived in a quaint North London duplex with three roommates. Housemates, as they say in England. We were a fun bunch that occasionally hung out together. It was a cold January weekend in Angel. I had a friend visiting from out of town. A friend who was still undefined as whether they’d turn into a lifelong buddy or someone, I ended up dating. Ted and I had known one another for a while and my roommate Maddie seemed to get along with him just fine. As good youngsters, living their best lives in London would, we decided it was the night we’d hit the local little jazz bar nearby our place. Plan set and in motion, we were strutting towards the watering hole filled with glee.

“Two – three drinks max, alright?! I have to prep for this work thing on Monday,” announced Maddie on our way out. It was wishful thinking on her end more than it was a promise that she made for herself. She was wearing her red heels which meant, she was out to boogie! There are two things you need to know about my crew. One – Maddie worked as highly regarded financial advisor at a firm in the City, being as tough as the broker dudes on trading floors. She knew how to hold her liquor and slay on Monday as if nights out never happened. Two – Ted is an overachieving, brilliant guy who doesn’t really drink much. Unfortunately, he had no idea what he had gotten himself into.

We get to the jazz joint and it’s filled to the brim. Wiggling our way to the bar, we decided it’s whiskey that we drink. Double. Cause that’s what you do when you go to a jazz bar. Wine, if you’re classy, but we were definitely not trying to be classy that night. We were about to forget our adult troubles and pretend as if life was just one big endless laughter. The music was playing, we kept dancing and drinking. Keeping our limits pretty well, at one point Maddie decided to switch to vodka-cranberry. You know, to switch it up a little! As the time flew, the glasses kept changing and eventually, as the clock hit midnight, we were out on the street like Cinderella without her pumpkin carriage. The pubs and bars closed by midnight. Merry and giggly, we decided it’s time for a pizza and popped into Domino’s on our way back. We went into the actual store and cracked up the guy at the booth until he was crying in laughter. We got our chicken pizza and made it back home.

We clearly didn’t stop after two-three drinks max but weren’t in embarrassing state either. We were young, happy, filled with joy and…quite a bit of whiskey. Days tend to end with sleep, so as the evening got merrier, certain things started leading to others. Maddie dragged herself to bed with two painkillers and glass of water as a preventative measure. Ted and I dragged each other to bed. Let’s face it, watching two tipsy people trying to be charming is probably as awkward as watching a baby giraffe skate. It was what it was. Young hormones and liquor had done their job. Since mama didn’t raise no fool, we made sure that we were safe. Little balloon boys in crisp packets made their way out of the drawer. It’s hard to recall all details, until there was reason to remember everything. As things were moving along, one of us needed a sip of water. We stopped fooling around and tended to the thirst. It wasn’t until that moment when something dawned on me.

“Ted?! Umm…where’s the condom?” I stared at him in panic.

“What do you mean?” he looks down. “What? WHAT? It hasn’t broken. Where is it?”

Butt naked in our god given pasty skin we were on a mission. A mission to find a lost man. A soldier, that cannot be left behind. We looked everywhere, crawling around my tiny bedroom trying to look for it. We shook the sheets, looked under the mattress, under the bed, behind the nightstand and even the dresser though I knew there was no way on earth it could be there. To this day, I have a slight burn mark on my wrist from the heaving hot radiator next to my bed from trying to stuff my hand between the mattress and the heater to check there. We stood there clueless.

“Hey….so…what if…” Ted started, “…just hear me out. What if it’s still…inside?”

“Are you crazy? No! I would feel it, surely!”

“Well, do you maybe want to check?”

“Just dive in there?” I was now starting to sink into the terrifying thought that there may be a latex object lost in the depths of my…well…lady parts.

“No! Go to the bathroom or something maybe? I will keep looking here.”

Ted continued the treasure hunt. I could hear him shuffle about through the bathroom wall. There I was, having a conversation with myself.

“Okay, here we go. I cannot believe I am about to do this! This is so stupid! This can’t be…I don't even date! I don't hook up! I just...this isn't happening!” I had to get over my pride and mentally prepare myself for a rescue mission.

Bent in the weirdest shapes I have ever found myself in, there I was trying to find the lost soldier. For a second it made me think about war movies and I whispered “…saving private Ryan” to myself and started laughing. This was ridiculous. I was ridiculous. This was not supposed to happen. Why me? Why that night? Why? After about 5 minutes of searching, I was certain there’s nothing there. I decided to try one more time. I felt something lightly touching the tip of my finger. NO! No, no no, NO! It was the weirdest and the most bizarre feeling I can recall. Every woman knows what it feels like to go to gynaecologist. It is not fun. Now, every woman reading this, if this has never happened to you, I promise, it’s way worse of a feeling than going in for a check-up. Trust me!

As I was standing there, eye to eye with my newly found treasure, I had a realisation. A connection formed in my head that made me want to melt because of embarrassment. I had to walk back into that bedroom and report my findings to Ted. Had to admit that place where my child would one day come out of is like Mary Poppins’ bag: you never know what you will find! Finally, I gathered myself enough to go and face a naked guy in my room. Ted sat there with big round eyes filled with question marks. I sighed and lifted the long-lost soldier boy. I wanted the ground beneath me to open and swallow me whole. I have never been more embarrassed than I was then. It was the weirdness of the situation, the daunting thought of what he may think of me and just sheer ridiculousness of the whole thing. I stood there holding the sad looking latex tube and said: “I think I’m Mary Poppins’ bag! This is so embarrassing!”

He started laughing hard. I followed. We just couldn’t stop. I was relieved to know that I was not alone in my embarrassment. And for what?! Because something like that had happened? Needless to say, we called it a day and left it be.

In the morning, the first thing that we said to one another was Mary Poppins. To this day the incident is being referred to as that. After getting our coffees and slowly eating our hangover breakfast, John, my other housemate enter the room worried.

“So, guys, I was cleaning this morning and found something worrying. I am not sure if a homeless person has been in our back garden but come look. There’s something weird out there.” He pointed to the big sliding glass doors. There were remains of pink hued mash of bread and chicken staring at us. We looked up; it was under Maddie’s window. Almost instantaneously we lost it. Rolling on the floor in laughter. Poor John, he was clueless, and I believe to this day, doesn’t know what exactly happened. When later on, Maddie joined us downstairs, I asked her if by any chance she got sick in the middle of the night. She froze and looked at me: “Why are you asking that?” I pointed at the glass door. She walked over. “OH MY GOD! OH….MY…GOD!” hand covering her mouth, she turned around bright red laughing. “I am so sorry! I wanted to go to the bathroom but never made it that far. I thought I cleaned it up at night!”

Maddie was our saving grace. It was the night that will forever be remembered. Here’s to roaring twenties, to youth, pink pizza and Mary Poppins! Never ever relive the twenties!