The truth is at the bottom of a rum bottle
I have had the same experience where a very censured version is told until she and a girlfriend get a few drinks in them then they start to recall the times when they would hit the local bar every Friday and leave with some guys to continue the party at someone’s house.
The favourite seems to be when she woke up naked in the back garden with her clothes and hair extensions pulled out and scattered across the lawn and every corner they did it in.
The fact that “we” now live in the same area of this small town and the bar is still relatively local meaning we run into “old friends” just about everywhere.
I know we both have a past but it becomes pretty uncomfortable knowing half the town has been there before you.
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