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Helping myself to some of Spike and Steph's leftover Chinese, warming myself with a generous glass of Reisling, and enjoying the apartment to myself, I casually slipped my hand down my pants to check if I was 'in the mood'. Yep.
As I walked in the direction of the toilet, a small, square, purple object caught my eye as it reflected the moonlight. Spike's stolen condom.
Looking at my hand, then looking at the serendipitiously placed contraceptive device on Spike's bedside table, I decided not to question fate. Maybe it was the wine, but I decided to go for it. This was meant to be.

I'll admit that while it isn't my way, it certainly isn't unenjoyable. It was worth a 'shot', but with the prohibitive price of rubber johnnies these days I wouldn't recommend anyone take it up as a regular thing.

It was looking at my mispent seed in its translucent carry-bag when I realised that no: this is not how I want to spend Schoolies. I couldn't bear the fact that discovering a new way to spice up wank time would be the highlight of my Monday night (discluding of course the events in Monday night's episode of M*A*S*H, wherein Father Mulcahy performed a life-saving tracheotomy on a wounded soldier while that dude with glasses watched. Then the jew made a joke about it later, ahahahahahaha).
So, after pouring myself a heaped glass of wine and finishing before it settled, I marched out the door of my apartment, resolute in my aim to find something better to do!
A few minute's walk later, and there he was: Close personal friend and intellectual adversary, Timmy B. Borham! My Savior!
"Timmy, my ol' cocker sunshine bravo champy, what are we up to this evening?" I said, giving him a friendly thump on the arm.
"Not much, Bronso' cracker mighty corker cobber, just walking around trying to decide on an hilariously 'edgy' T-shirt to purchase from Condom Kingdom. They have the wildest things there!" he exclaimed, as I nodded for him to continue. "I can't choose between the one with a photo of Happy Days' Henry Winkler with the quote, 'I f*cked your mother' under it, or one with some text about beer that implies I drink lots of it. They're both just so irreverent and comical!" I shrugged my shoulders in apathy, then enquired as to how he's been enjoying Schoolies.
"Yeah, yeah over all not incredibly bad... I guess," he said, launching into a lengthy story. "Last night though, phh... I was in a group of about seven people or something, walking around Cavill. Anyway, a few of the group deviated or got lost or something, so the group I was in shrunk to Sangster, Strain and myself. We were all pretty hungry, especially Straino, as he wouldn't stop whining about getting some food. We were all sick of Cavill too, so Nick told us to follow him to a quaint little KFC he had heard of, which was only a short stroll away. Well, I know Nick has long legs and all, but I doubt he would still call that fuckin' odyssean nightmare a short stroll. We walked for about half a God damn hour, stopping every so often for Matt to catch his breath or to be accosted by a drunk guy without a shirt. As we slowly saw Red Rooster approach us in the distance, I suggested to Nick that perhaps he has gotten his chicken eateries mixed-up. Rest assured, he did, and even better for us, the fucking thing was shut. Matt was inconsolable."
"Wow, what a mind-blower," I said, laughing at the thought of a sweaty, puffed-out Matt thumping his fists into the ground in starved desperation. Then Timmy asked me what I've been up to.
"Oh you know, hanging around. I jerked off into a condom just before. M*A*S*H was good this afternoon, you manage to check it out? They need a fat guy on that show. But anyway, enough scally-doggering Timmy my dear boy, I best be off now," I said, walking into the direction of what Timmy assured me was KFC, through giggles and holding a cupped hand to his mouth.
After a light dinner of 3/4 of a Chicken, large chips and four bowls of gravy, I went home, content that the night wasn't a total waste of time.