When I was about 15 we went on a school ski trip to Killington, Vermont. The teachers basically left us to our own devices and we behaved like fucking animals, shoplifting from the general store in the complex we were staying at, stealing food, porno mags, cigarettes and beer from the walk-in cooler. I shudder thinking back, knowing what I now know about the American justice system. It's a miracle none of us were caught. But the meaner thing came on the second to last day.
We were having lunch at some on-piste canteen and me and my friends Ed and Tristan got talking to this group of American girls probably a year or two older than us. Naturally they loved our accents ("ohmygod, you sound like Hugh Grant!" etc) and Tristan got one of their cell numbers. They mentioned where they were staying and it was left vague but being the zero game-having 15 year old horny shitheads that we were, we took it as understood that we should drop by later that night. To be clear, they didn't say anything of the sort.
So we say our farewells, ski all afternoon and eventually go back to the resort. By now we've built the whole thing up in our heads. We've staked our claims "I'll have the blonde one" and already started bragging to our classmates "You're not getting so much as a bit of tit and we're going to be balls deep in cheerleaders in a couple of hours" etc. We look up the place they're staying and it's a hike. There are no buses, we obviously don't have a car but it'll be worth it we say. We walk for almost an hour, mostly uphill, in the freezing snow. Every time we feel our spirits slipping we console each other with fantasies of what lies ahead. A bacchanal awaits us. Fucking, sucking, wine and song.
Finally, we get there. Their complex is a lot smaller than ours and their room is on the basement floor. We knock on the door. Which one will answer? In what state of undress will she greet us? Will we just get right into the sex or will there be an awkward "how was the trip" prologue? The door opens. There stood a massive shirtless guy of about 20 years old. Ed and I were over 6 foot at this point and this guy towered over us. He was also built like a brick shithouse. Dude looked to us like "high school jock" out of central casting.
"Help you?" he said.
I'd be lying if I said I remembered any of these girls' names but let's call the one Tristan chatted up "Kristy."
"Yeah, er, is Kristy here?" Tristan squeaked.
"Who are you?" said Chad.
"Er, we met her and Emma and Jessica (?) earlier on the slopes. They told us to come by."
We smell the sweet smell of weed and can hear girls giggling and music playing so there's still a glimmer of hope. There are other male voices though too. The guy says "wait a minute" closes the door and is gone for what seems a lot longer. He comes back with a grin on his face and shakes his head. "Wrong room" he says and slams the door. We hear an explosion of female laughter.
We stood there for a minute like three lemons, three defeated lemons. We know we're not going to knock on the door and take it further. The guy could probably have taken all three of us at the same time and there were others with him.
"Fuck it" said Ed as he dropped his trousers and took a squat outside their door. I didn't need a shit but did take a lengthy piss on the carpet outside their door. Ed left what looked like a brown kielbasa for the Bro or one of the cunts to tread in. It was such a bitch move but we were young pussies. It wasn't until years later that I realised that some poor cleaner had to scrub my mate's shit out of the floor. We trudged back angry and humiliated and got absolutely torn apart by the rest of the boys, gleeful to learn of our failure.
The next day, Tristan, who could do a good American accent, phoned up the girl and told her her dad had just been killed in a car accident. She started crying and he broke character and started laughing and saying "gotcha, bitch." What awful little pricks we were.