He wore a two-piece tracksuit

There comes a time in everyone’s life, that they have to make that trip… the trip to the STI clinic. Mortifying yet a necessity.

After travelling, the standard deep clean was needed. Dentist, doctors, clinic. Lucky for me, having a male slag and a fellow traveller as friends, I had two accomplices. The support they offered, taking photos of me I the way in.

We all went for a tinkle in a cup and waited for our bloods to be taken. The boys got called first, leaving me on my own (but not for long). As I sat there waiting for my name to be called in a semi empty waiting room, two chavs, in two-piece tracksuits came and sat down opposite me. Chatting away and discussing the ladies in their life, they decided that I could answer the question that was clearly at the forefront of their minds.
“Oi, don’t you think the STI clinic is a great place to pick up birds?”

Oh my god. GO AWAY. This is mortifying. Does it look like I want to talk to anyone????

“Urm, elaborate?” – Why? Why did I engage in conversation? I watched my friend walk past and head straight for the exit, motioning at his watch and mouthing cark park. Wishing I could just leave with him I listened to the response.

“You know, anyone in here is clearly looking after themselves, and you can find out what’s going on with them down below from the get go”

A great notion, but I felt as though it lacked a little in quality.

My second friend came out.

“Nat I’m going to head for the car”

He turned and waved whilst smirking and left me there, alone, with the two idiots sat in front of me… Cheers.

Chav 1 continued to talk.

“So what you waiting around for now?”

“Just checking whether I’ve got aids or not, what about you?” – palm to forehead, why ask another question??

“Oh, I already know I’ve got the clap from this girl” Thrusting his phone into my face all I saw was a girl who had overdosed on eyeliner and had a clear definition between her own hair and extensions.

“She looks nice”

“Naaaaa, average bang”

Great, I was stuck with someone who was wearing a blue Adidas tracksuit and spoke like one of my exes, with his grey tracksuit friend next to him laughing. Hallelujah I spied the nurse out of the corner of my eye. I would take her testing me for aids or curing this guy of whatever was going on down below.

“Natalie B*******”

Thank the fucking lord, although not so happy about her shouting my name that loud in our current location.

“Babes, so before you go, and now I know your name, Natalie, fancy giving me your number??”


I froze, his friend pissing himself next to him. This was a point of desperation in my life, but someone who already had the clap…

“No”


I strolled off. I wish I could say I felt superior, but I didn’t. All I could think was my judgement of him would lead to karma coming round and biting me in the bum.  20 minutes, a sore arm and a packet of condoms later I ran out of that clinic.


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