Authors: Calvin Wade
JOEY – May 2012
Saturday afternoon of Simon’s Stag Do went like a dream. The coach was a laugh, handcuffing Simon to the Blue Goblin, whilst he was in the shower in his B&B was hilarious and Blackpool Pleasure Beach was amazing. To top it off, we stopped off at the bookies on the way back to our B&B and I had a treble come in on a £1 win Yankee and picked up £285. Happy days! Everyone else in there seemed to be losing, but you just have certain days when everything you touch turns to gold and I just knew this was one of those days.
Once we were back at the B&B, before I spruced myself up, I started texting around to see what the consensus was, with regards to heading out on the ale. Simon’s Dad, Frank, suggested the Wetherspoons pub by Blackpool Tower as a good original meeting point, as him and Arthur had been down there earlier and thought it was alright. I wouldn’t normally take guidance from two seventy odd year olds, but as it was only an original meeting place, I decided to run with it. If they had suggested the nightclub, I would have been more wary. At seven, we headed down there in groups of no more than five and all fifty four of us got in without any issues. This was probably helped by the fact that Will was the only lad under 30, so the doorman probably didn’t view us as potential troublemakers.
Over a pint or three in Wetherspoons, we mapped our night out. Everyone was free to wander off in their own little groups early on, but at ten o’clock, we would all meet up in ‘Reflex The 80s bar’ on the Promenade. After Reflex, if anyone wanted to get back home for shut eye, that was fine, but then the rest of us would go clubbing to a place called Sanuk.
Simon and Tim, the guy who was dressed as a Blue Goblin were, not surprisingly, getting loads of attention all afternoon and in Wetherspoons, it was even more intense, especially amongst young, good looking women. Simon and Tim were like the pollen and young fit girls were like the bees. Loads of different girls were chatting to them, buying them drinks and wanting their photos taken with them. Despite us agreeing that we would go our separate ways until meeting at the Reflex at ten, I decided I would not be straying too far from Simon and Tim all night. They were going to be babe magnets and as the Best Man, I thought it only right that I did my own introductions to any beautiful ladies that came along.
Tim was not the only weird looking bloke at Wetherspoons. At one stage, I went to the bar to get half a dozen drinks for some of the lads and I stood next to some bloke whose face was almost as blue as our Tim’s. It wasn’t face paint though. It looked like a blotchy blue skin allergy.
“What happened to your face, mate? We’re in here with that Blue Goblin over there and his face isn’t much bluer than yours!”
The lad was from down near Watford. He was probably a decent looking lad without the face that looked like a slab of Gorgonzola. He explained what had happened,
“I was fine yesterday. I just woke up this morning and my face had come out in these blue blotches. I’m on my best mate’s Stag Do, so you can imagine the ribbing I’ve had today. One of the lads is a Charlie & the Chocolate Factory fanatic as well, so they’ve all been calling me Violet Beauregarde and singing that Oompa Loompa song all day. The bloke who likes the film has taught them all the words. It’s going to be even worse on the minibus home tomorrow. I’m the Best Man too, so the Groom has been saying ‘I’ve got a blueberry for a Best Man!’ Honestly mate, it’s been relentless.”
I felt sorry for the poor sod. Here was I having the best day ever and he was having a terrible time of it.
“Any idea what caused it?”
“I took a tablet last night, which I think I must have had an allergic reaction to.”
“Bad timing that mate, with being on a Stag Do.”
“Terrible. I pulled last night but I’m not fancying my chances tonight now.”
“Don’t be too sure. Look at our Blue Goblin over there. It doesn’t seem to have harmed his chances.”
The speckled blue bloke from Watford looked over to where I was pointing and Tim must have had about twenty women crowded around him. They were kissing his cheek, hugging him and queuing up for photos.
“Cheers mate. You never know it could turn out to be a blessing.”
“No problem, mate.”
I felt pleased with myself for cheering him up. There were enough gorgeous looking women around for all of us and I was looking good, smelling great and feeling supremely confident that the best looking woman Blackpool had to offer would be bouncing on my bed before dawn.
WILL – May 2012
I had to get out of Reflex. I couldn’t cope any longer. It was half past ten and I would have walked back to the B&B on my own, but I’d have felt like I was letting my Dad down. The night wasn’t about me, it was about my Dad and although I had had a great day, I just didn’t get Reflex. I hardly knew any music from the 1980’s and the music I did know was crap. I just felt like a spare part. I had a fag outside and then halfway through it, I took my mobile out and rang Laura. Thankfully, she picked up straight away.
“Hiya darling!” Laura said in such a sexy way it made my heart pound faster. Just hearing her voice made me perk up immediately. A further positive was that there was no background noise. I worried about her going out into Chorley without me.
“Hi babe. Sounds quiet there. Did you decide to stay in?”
“Yes, thought I’d have an early night, Will
, so I could dream about you. How’s the Stag Do going?”
Result she had stayed in. I punched the air.
“It was going great until I got to the bar that I’m outside now. It’s an eighties bar, Laura and I wasn’t even born in the eighties. The rest of the lads all know the old songs so I just feel like a spare part. Everyone keeps pulling my hair off too, they think it’s an eighties wig.”
“Poor babe,” Laura sympathised, but then for her own peace of mind said, “Are there no decent girls in there either?”
“I haven’t looked,” I reassured her, which was a lie, the place was crawling with them, but I wasn’t interested. I have found through experience that a white lie goes down better than the truth in such circumstances. Ultimately, it didn’t matter, Laura was my world.
“Do you know what I would do if I were you, Will?” Laura said sleepily.
“Go to bed?”
“No, go back in there, have a couple of drinks and make an effort.
Are your Grandads in there?”
“Yes, they’re loving it. We all went to the Pleasure Be
ach earlier, but my two Grandads went to the pub. They’re pissed as farts, Laura!”
“Well, even more reason why you should go back in. There won’t be many other nights in your life that you’ll be out on the piss with your Dad and two Grandads! Even when it’s the wedding, they won’t be letting their hair down like they are tonight. Your Dad will be on his best behaviour and I bet your Grandads won’t be as drunk as they are now.”
“Grandad Frank definitely won’t. Nanna would never let him get in this sort of state.”
“Will, lap it up then. Forget about the cheesy music, just have a laugh with your lovely Dad and crazy Grandads.”
“Laura.”
“What?”
“You are so right. Thanks for the pep talk. I love you so much. I will text you in the morning and then I’ll be around as soon as we are back tomorrow afternoon.”
“Love you too, gorgeous. Now go and enjoy the partying.”
“OK, I will. Love you.”
I switched my phone off, stubbed my cigarette out and went back in. The sight that confronted me as I re-entered the Reflex will remain with me for the rest of my life. Michael Jackson’s song, ‘Thriller’ was being played, a song even I knew and my two Grandads were up on one really long table, doing a Zombie stomp and claw walk
to the music. On the table next to them, my Dad and his Blue Goblin mate, who was dressed for the part, were on the table next to them doing exactly the same.
“Shit!” I muttered to myself, “I need a few stiff drinks before I join in with this lot!”
ZARA - May 2012
I wouldn’t go as far as to say that Candice, Patrick’s sisters and the rest of the Hen party, with the exception of Lucy, had forgiven me by Saturday night, but at least they seemed to have reached the stage that giving me a hard time was no longer a priority. Candice had asked us all up to her room in The Cheshire before we headed out for the evening, as she had Christened Saturday night the ‘Cheese and Wine’ evening. We were told to go to her room for seven o’clock for a pre-party cheese and wine nibble and to collect our outfits for the night out.
Given the uncomfortable time I had been given during the ‘Baywatch on the beach’ afternoon, I was more than a little nervous about being squashed into a small room with them all. I texted Flo, explaining my predicament and asking her what I should do. She texted back with some simple advice.
‘Only one thing you can do. Have a couple before you go.’
Lucy and I took Flo’s advice too literally. We went out at five o’clock and bought a bottle of white wine each in a nearby pub and stayed there for an hour and a half, chatting and giggling as we emptied them. I thought my bottle must have been spiked when I arrived back at The Cheshire. As I was going up the stairs to our room, there was a bloke in his forties coming down, who was handcuffed to a midget with massive ears, painted blue from head to toe.
“Your room must be bloody freezing!” I said to the midget, as we passed him on the stairs, which set Lucy off with tipsy giggles.
Amazingly, we were up in Candice’s room on time. It was all a bit frosty at first, leading me to whisper to Lucy,
“I’ll be as blue as that midget bloke, if my reception remains this cold,” but as time passed and more wine was drunk, the atmosphere slowly improved.
About fifteen minutes after we all arrived, Sam took Candice into the en suite for ten minutes. When they re-emerged, Candice was wearing the 1980s wedding dress Madonna wore in the ‘Like A Virgin’ video. If you haven’t seen it, the dress is slutty rather than virginal, but after my comments at breakfast, I wasn’t going to be pointing that out. Sam had also dressed her in the bog standard ‘L’ plate but this had been personalised and had on it, ‘Candice Is Getting Married. May Need Some Guidance.’ She also wore an array of penis accessories. A ‘Willy Garter’, flashing ‘Willy Boppers’, clip on flashing ‘Willy Earrings’ and was carrying a 5ft naked inflatable husband, ironically missing a penis. I thought to myself that if Friday night was anything to go by, Candice would not have any difficulty finding one.
As for the rest of us, Sam brought out eleven dresses in cellophane wrapping, each individually named. The outfit was a Union Jack mini dress similar to the one that Geri from the Spice Girls had famously worn. I was a size eight, so knew I would get away with it, but did wonder if some of the bigger girls might resist. If I’d given Flo that dress she’d have told me in no uncertain terms where to go, although the same could also be said of the Baywatch costumes and everyone had worn them. Give them their due, to my surprise, no-one seemed anything other than excited by the prospect of wearing it. Sam also passed around twelve willy straws and twelve pink sashes that simply said ‘Candice’s Hen Party’.
Candice explained that Saturday night, at least until midnight, was going to be the ‘Cheese and Wine’ night as we would all be only drinking wine and only going into cheesy pubs. Sam and Candice had plotted a route which would take in several tacky pubs, finishing with us all going to ‘Reflex The 80s Bar’ on the Promenade. Once again, if I hadn’t been in the bad books, I might have pointed out Geri’s dress wasn’t from the 1980’s, but I opted to keep my mouth shut.
We all headed back to our rooms and half an hour later we were off out. We had a great laugh in those tacky pubs, chatting up a few excited old blokes and screeching along to some old tunes, the highlights being Neil Diamond’s ‘Sweet Caroline’ and Carly Simon’s ‘You’re So Vain’. I also found a quiet moment to apologise to Candice,
“I’m so sorry for my relevation this morning, this morning, Candice. It wasn’t done to be horrible, I just didn’t know who the girls were.”
“It’s OK babe,” Candice said, “I knew you didn’t do it to be horrible. I thought it was just done through stupidity.”
“Oh good,” I said, “Are we friends then?”
“Best friends,” Candice said, giving me a hug. I knew it was a weird thing for her to say, as I knew we weren’t ever going to be best friends. It might well have been sarcasm and she may have hated my guts and really thought I was stupid, but I didn’t care. As long as they were nice to me until they left me on Sunday, it made no odds. I know I’m a dippy cow at times, but I’m probably cleverer than half the girls who think I’m thick.
About quarter to eleven, we finally made it to Reflex. I love eighties bars anyway, as a little girl, I was always listening to my Mum and Dad’s eighties CDs, but I knew I was going to enjoy it even more than normal when one of the most stunning blokes my eyes have ever had the fortune to see, started checking me out from the moment I came through the door. He was a lot older than me, probably mid-thirties, but he was tanned, well dressed, sporty, toned and somehow strangely familiar. I deliberately brushed against him as I headed to get Lucy and myself a drink from the bar.
“You must have been gutted when you came out and saw all your mates wearing the same dress,” he shouted into my ear over Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’.
“Not really,” I said flashing him a smile, “I’m showing them how it should be worn.”
“That’s very true. I believe Geri Halliwell may be calling around later for tips too. The ‘God Save The Queen’ thong is a great touch.”
“Thanks! I brought a massive suitcase and this thong is one of the only things I have had chance to wear, as our costumes have been given to us.”
“Well, thank God I got to see you in this one,” he said, partly distracted by two old blokes
, a midget and a middle aged guy dancing on tables. I did a double take.
“Bloody Nora! That bloke and midget are stopping in our B&B!”
“You’re joking. I’m on the big guys, Stag Do. I booked the Blue Goblin, as I’m Best Man. He isn’t a midget though, he’s a dwarf.”
“What’s the difference?”
“No idea.”
The bar man came over to serve me. I don’t think it was my turn, but I was looking so hot, everyone seemed to be falling over to assist me.
“Put your money away, darling,” the Adonis said, I’ve had some luck today, so your drinks are on me.”
“Really? Thank you. Are you OK getting my mate’s drink too?”
“No problem,” dreamboat said, “I can’t believe these guys are up on the tables. They’re quiet when they’re sober!”
“The perils of alcohol, hey!”
“Perils? No, it’s fantastic! So what are you having?”
“Two white wine spritzers, please.”
“And your most expensive bottle of champagne please barman. We’re celebrating. Two glasses too.”
The more I looked at him, the more pleasure I was getting, but there was also a growing sense of familiarity.
“I know you from somewhere, don’t I?”
“I was thinking that too,” the beautiful bloke said, “maybe we’ve met in heaven when God was making us a match.”
I had absolutely no idea what he was on about. The fact that I was smashed probably didn’t help.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean we’re a match made in heaven, gorgeous.”
I giggled. I was definitely in here. We chatted a bit longer then I took Lucy her drink. She too had begun chatting to some bloke. I didn’t speak to her, just slipped the glass into her hand. I then returned to my rightful place. I looked again at him. I definitely knew him. I was a tiny bit disappointed for a couple of reasons. Firstly, because I couldn’t put my finger on where I knew him from. Secondly, I was disappointed because if I already knew him, I knew I wouldn’t be able to tell our children that it was love at first sight. I was then slapped in the face by inspiration.
“Are you from Chorley?”
“I am,” he said, “don’t tell me you are too!”
“Yes. I think I know where I know you from! Are you in the David Lloyd gym?”
“Yes. Is that where we’ve seen each other? I knew I knew you!”
“Yes, that’s it! I love it there!”
I suddenly had a vision of me lustfully watching him on the weights when I was on the exercise bike.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Zara Sunderland.” I said, “What’s yours?”
The ‘Thriller’ song stopped and he gave a round of applause to his mates, “My name? It’s Simon. Simon Strong.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell. I have seen you in there though.”
“You will have done, gorgeous but not recently.”
“How come?”
“I’m a bit pissed off with the place.”
“Why?”
“I had my Mercedes nicked from there the other week.”
I’m not sure if I had guilt written all over my face, but I certainly polished off my wine spritzer quicker than he could do nought to sixty in his car.
“That’s awful,” I said, “I hope you got it back.”
“Yes, bloody kids only took it to Botany Bay.”
“Thank goodness for that! Could you pour me a glass of your champagne please, Simon? I really feel like drinking.”
Poor Simon. I felt awful about his car. If I had known it belonged to such a sexy man, I’d have gone to see him. I needed to put right my wrong. I was going to make it up to him and I knew the way he looked at me, he was going to enjoy every second of my apology. I took my willy straw out the side of my knickers, placed it in my champagne, gave him a wink and sucked