I have this friend, you see. For the sake of protecting his identity, I'll call him, "Dave". No, wait. That doesn't work. I'll call him, "Steve". Yes, that will do. Now Steve was seeing Mina and they were becoming rather attached to one another. But because they each lived at home the young amorous couple were limited in their, shall we say, "quality time". That is until one weekend last year at this time, when circumstances finally worked out in their favour.

Steve and Mina basically had an entire weekend to themselves, starting Friday afternoon. Wishing to profit from their good fortune, Mina invited Steve over to her house and he arrived shortly after Mina's parents left for their weekend away. Steve brought over roses and some champagne, they made dinner together and the evening had a great start. Now seeing how this is the nineties, they had a little chat and, discovering they were on the same page, went upstairs.

Because this is more or less a family newspaper, or at least we don't want to corrupt any first years, details have been spared from publication. (However, for those of you in years second and up, see me later for the naughty bits). By this time, night had fallen and all was quiet outside. Inside the house Mina's room was dark. And it was a good thing the room was dark, otherwise the headlights would not have been seen coming through the bedroom window. Shortly thereafter, the requisite anxious question was heard, "Is that someone in the driveway?", which was followed by the muffled answer, "It's probably someone doing a U turn." Then the engine cut. A car door slammed, followed by another, which was followed by footsteps. Then the front door opened, which in turn was followed by simultaneous cardiac arrest. "OHMYGOD! They're home!" said just above a whisper, but having the same magnitude if it had been measured at 140 decibels (ie the threshold of pain).

There was no time to lose and evasive action was needed. But seeing how this was the first time, no contingency plan existed so tactical command fell to General Confusion and shear panic. The closet! The CLOSET! There's no closet door! Crap! Under the bed, under the BED! Can't fit, there's a leg in the way. CRAP!! Last chance, the window, the WINDOW! "Hold my clothes while I step outside!" A bullet was dodged. *knock knock* "Mina, are you in there?"

"Uh...yes. I was just...lying down, Mum." Mina said stuffing Steve's clothes under the bed. Good answer, another bullet dodged. "You're back?"

"Dad got an important call, business, and we had to turn around."

"Okay," thought Steve, "No problem. Dad deals with the business then they go, then we're back in business." Third bullet dodged.

"Looks like skiing is off for the weekend."

"Okayyyy...still... no problem," Steve continued, "just get the clothes when mum leaves, then slide off the roof." Fourth bullet dodged.

"Come on downstairs and help me unload the car."

"This is ridiculous!" Steve thought as he noticed the car directly beneath his vantage point on the roof. "What's Fate using, a semi-automatic? Ok, ok. Adopt, adapt, and improve. Just step back inside." But..."Why is the window shut? WHY IS THIS WINDOW SHUT!"

As you can see, the later events of the evening were less than sparkling, but no less memorable. Experiencing a sinking feeling, Steve sought higher ground and moved up the roof. But as the wind blew, he became more and more aware of his state of undress. As did the neighbour who noticed his full moon cresting the roof. After some time, Steve heard Mina calling to him from her window, and he went back down to fetch his clothes and thus the evening ended. So the moral of this story is while unsafe sex carries certain risks, unplanned sex is no less risky, that's for certain. The Underground