"Fancy some fun, mate?"

Jamez · Tue 06 Sep, 2005 21.53

I just went shopping to Asda on the other side of Cardiff, and then fancied a drive up the mountain to Castell Coch (Red Castle) on the outskirts of the city. I drove up the winding lane to the top of the moutain to the viewing area which has stunning views right across the city. It's like being in a plane.

Anyway, there were about half a dozen other cars parked there in the darkness, and I got out sat on my car bonnet and had a ciggy. My phone rang and it was my mate and he kept me talking for about 2 mins.

When I finished the call, a car further down the carpark started up, turned on its headlights and pulled up next to me. The window opened and a fat bloke with glasses around 45-50 said "Fancy some fun, mate?"

I turned and looked at him blankly for a moment and said "what?"

"Can I suck you off?" He said.

I looked around me and I could see that all the cars had just one male driver sitting in them. All over 30 years old, and very sinister looking. I replyed with "Fuck off you peado!", got in my car and drove off at very high speed.

I was so shocked. I didn't think that one of my favourite chilling out spots became a gay sex area at night!! Ughh... filthy dirty bastards.

fusionlad · Tue 06 Sep, 2005 21.57

Most scenic spots seem to take on a different role at night. Plymouth is no exception. Kids and families by day, dirtly old men by night.

Gavin Scott · Tue 06 Sep, 2005 22.08

There's nothing sinister about the act of trawling James. Whilst it's not exactly classy, it's a means to an end when horny men want to meet someone out in the sticks (and in many a city).

Plenty of straight boys and girls are at it too. Dogging, anyone? Are you really naive enough to not know what the cars were doing there? I'm frankly a little surprised. I thought you were *quite* the sauce-bottle.

If I were being a real bitch, (which I wouldn't dream of), I'd say you were more pissed off that it was a big fatty-fat-fat old man who chatted you up, and not someone gorgeous.

Like Ison.

Jamez · Tue 06 Sep, 2005 22.12

I'm not naive, but at 9pm (and it wasnt totally dark), it simply didnt cross my mind that i'd stumbled upon a gay dogging area!!

Even if some sexy, horny woman came over to me, I would have told her to fuck off too. I'm not an easy shag, dear.

Gavin Scott · Tue 06 Sep, 2005 22.20

Jamez wrote:I'm not naive, but at 9pm (and it wasnt totally dark), it simply didnt cross my mind that i'd stumbled upon a gay dogging area!!

Even if some sexy, horny woman came over to me, I would have told her to fuck off too. I'm not an easy shag, dear.

It's not easy being charming to ugmoids who proposition one, I must admit.

But if they are, "sexy and horny", then it's possibly a good idea to say, "thank you, no", but take a number.

If that makes me easy: easy I am.

Oh who am I kidding? I'm a slut.

Nick Harvey · Tue 06 Sep, 2005 22.28

Bloomin' lucky you weren't round this neck of the woods, Jamez, it would probably have been either a Labour MP or AM.

cwathen · Tue 06 Sep, 2005 22.50

Most scenic spots seem to take on a different role at night. Plymouth is no exception. Kids and families by day, dirtly old men by night.

Which scenic spots in Plymouth do you speak of? I thought Plymouth's red light district was comprised of the twin towers of Devil's Point car park and Millbay Docks, neither of which are scenic at any time of the day.

babyben · Tue 06 Sep, 2005 22.51

Jamez wrote: Anyway, there were about half a dozen other cars parked there in the darkness, and I got out sat on my car bonnet and had a ciggy.

:roll:

Aye James, we all believe you are so nieve!

Jamez · Tue 06 Sep, 2005 23.10

babyben wrote:
:roll:

Aye James, we all believe you are so nieve!

At least I can spell it.

cat · Tue 06 Sep, 2005 23.15

To be fair, what do you expect at a place called Castle Coch?

You should've just waited for someone younger.

Nick Harvey · Tue 06 Sep, 2005 23.23

It's slightly ironic that goings-on of an "unusual" nature have been occurring at Castel Coch for far more years than any of us can claim witness to.

As a boy, it was one of my favourite weekend places to visit, with my parents, (after the huge rhubarb tree in Parc Cefn-On) mainly because I was fascinated by the secret passage and stairs leading down from the master bedroom as an escape route for persons who had been "up to no good".

It was some years before the meaning of "up to no good" was actually explained to me by aforementioned parents!