When I was around 14, I was feeling happy with myself having snared a date with a pretty girl I'd met. She asked whether I'd like to ride horses with her on the coming weekend, and I agreed without hesitation.
On the Saturday morning, I arrived at the agreed spot on time and noticed that all of her cliquey mates were joining in too. Okay.
I was directed to jump on the back of the horse where my friend was sitting and got up with dignity in tact. However, that was when things started going downhill.
I was nestled in the back of the reins holder in a pretty tight spooning position. Not much room to move.
The relaxed bubble I was in was obliterated when I felt (and heard) a sharp and crisp :PARP: come from my lady friend up front.
This was well within earshot of her adoring friends who, within 0.7sec of the blast, had eyes trained on us. Instead of owning up to the crime, my lady friend decided to laugh and blame the mess on me.
She certainly succeeded in making me look like a sad young man with an active case of irritable bowel syndrome. In any case, we trotted off on the horse to the tune of controlled sniggers.
To top things off, she then leaned back, by my stiff neck a kiss and whispered, "Got ya".
I never have any luck with horses.
in Baxter, Victoria, Australia
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