The Drought (The hilarious laugh-out loud comedy about dating disasters!) (12 page)

“
Why do girls
insist on chatting continuously when you’re watching the footy, but
as soon as the adverts come on they shut up?” I said.

“
Yeah, that is
what the adverts are there for. That is their chance to speak,
otherwise, please be quiet,” Ollie said.

“
And why do
they always expect you to know what’s wrong with them? If you ask
them and they say nothing, then don’t expect us to press any
further on the matter.”

Ollie chuckled, “The thing is
we know they’re lying when they say nothing but we just can’t be
arsed with the hassle.”

We both took the time to gulp
down another mouthful of lager before Ollie kept the debate going.
“You remember that girl Sue I was seeing last year? The one that
was always sick?”

I remembered Sue quite well. We
all did. She was the one girl Ollie had managed to pull who seemed
quite normal compared to his usual conquests. And she seemed
completely oblivious to Ollie's complete lack of a brain. But she
just disappeared one day and no one knew why. Even Ollie didn't
know. We all took the piss of course, saying she had finally
cleaned the shit from her eyes and seen sense. But this was news to
me that she had been ill and I suddenly felt very guilty for taking
the mickey all those times. “I didn't know she had been sick, mate.
Was it serious?” I asked with a concerned tone.

“
I’m not sure
really,” Ollie said, both hands pressed against the bar. “She would
get these headaches. They always seemed to flare up at night when
we would get into bed. In the last couple of months we were
together they got really bad. She would be in so much pain that I
couldn’t even touch her.”

“
You mean she
got headaches when you wanted sex?” I asked, suddenly seeing where
this was going even if Ollie didn't have a clue.

“
It got worse
than that,” Ollie continued. “It got so bad that she couldn’t even
talk to me on the phone because it would make the headaches more
intense. Then one day I called her number and it was no longer in
use. I never heard from her again after that.”

Ollie went back to nursing his
pint with a look on his face like he was still trying to search for
the answers. I felt I should probably put him out of his misery and
break it to him gently that Sue hadn't been sick. There were no
headaches, she just took the easy way out; a bit like a man
would.

“
Mate,” I
started, putting my hand on his shoulder. “I think Sue was probably
lying about the headaches?”

Ollie looked at me and frowned.
He needed answers. “So you think...” I watched his expression
change as it finally dawned on him what had really happened. “You
don’t think she died, do you? Would that make me a widow?”

For a split second I thought
Ollie was joking, but his face was deadly serious. Then I
remembered it was Ollie I was talking to. Here is the guy who
believed Jack when he told him that Winston Churchill was the bloke
who sold insurance on TV adverts. At that point I gave up and
decided that perhaps the truth wasn't the best option. “I’m sure
she is fine, mate,” I reassured him. “You’re not a widow,” At least
that seemed to cheer him up.

“
So I heard
you got a bit drunk when you took that Grace out last week,” Ollie
said with a smile.

“
That’s one
way of putting it.” I said avoiding eye contact. I really wanted to
change the subject. I’d already had Rob and Jack give me plenty of
stick over this. The last thing I needed was the widow throwing his
two pennies worth in. Time to unleash old faithful I thought to
myself. “Hey, I think that bird over there is looking at
you.”

“
Where?” Ollie
turned round scanning the pub. It didn’t matter how many times I
played this practical joke on him, he always fell for it. Hook,
line, and sinker.

“
She just
turned away when you looked,” I swigged down some of my lager.
“Quick, she’s looking again.”

Ollie spun around as fast as he
could, but of course no one was looking. “You missed her again,
sorry mate,” I told him.

“
I don’t
believe you,” Ollie said still looking around the bar out of the
corner of his eye just in case there was a chance I was telling the
truth. “You’re just winding me up,” and he punched my arm,
immediately making it go dead. “I’m going to take an eyelash. Get
the drinks in.” He downed the rest of his pint before heading off
to the toilet.

I was only halfway through my
pint and knew I was in for a long night if I was going to keep up
with him. I ordered us another two pints, and attempted to sink as
much of my first pint as I could before Ollie returned.

“
Well, look
who it is,” someone said bitingly behind me.

I knew that voice. I knew it
all too well. I closed my eyes tightly hoping it wasn’t who I
thought it was, but no such luck. I turned around to be greeted by
Stacey.

And her new boyfriend Dave.

“
Hi Stacey,” I
said trying to be grown-up about the situation. I nodded and
half-smiled towards Dave, extending my hand to him. Stacey slapped
my hand away immediately.

“
I don’t think
so,” she growled, her face all screwed up. “I’ve already told Dave
all about you so don’t go thinking you’re going to be
mates.”

Dave just stared at me, a
crooked smile on his face. “I don’t have a problem with you,
Stacey, and I really don’t want any trouble,” I told them both.

“
Trouble? If
you want trouble, mate, I can give you trouble.” Dave added his
intellectual input to the conversation. The guy was a real piece of
work. His big gold earrings looked thick enough for a gymnast to
swing off of. He had a small ginger goatee and a tattoo across his
shaven head. He was short, but stocky, with a small scar across his
cheek. No doubt a proud battle scar.

“
I said
I
don’t
want any
trouble,” I repeated just to reiterate my position. I’d never been
a great fighter. I’d struggle to fight my way out of a wet paper
bag. But I really didn’t want to back down, especially as I knew
how much satisfaction it would give Stacey. Then again, I didn’t
want to take a beating either. I liked my face. It wasn’t the best
looking face as it was, and I was pretty sure Dave was not
interested in enhancing my appearance.

“
Well, maybe
you don’t have a choice,” Dave said positioning himself in front of
me so we were nose-to-nose. First Sophie, now Dave. I wondered how
many more people Stacey had lined up to inflict injury on me. I
wouldn’t have been surprised if she had started a Facebook group
called
Death to Dan Hilles.

I tried my utmost to stand my
ground. Dave snarled at me, the left side of his lip curling
upwards like a rabid dog flashing his fangs. I attempted an equally
menacing look to try and cover up the fear that was slowly building
up inside me, but I probably looked more like a stroke victim. I
was praying for the best but expecting the worse.

“
Is there a
problem here?” I had never been so pleased to hear Ollie’s voice in
all my life.

“
This is
between me and him,” Dave said not taking his eyes off me. I stood
my ground, growing in confidence now I had Ollie next to
me.

“
If you have a
problem with him, then you have a problem with me,” Ollie told him,
manhandling me out of the way to square up to Dave. Ollie towered
over him. My masculinity took a slight knock, but under the
circumstances I was willing to live with that. I merely poked my
head over Ollie’s shoulder to eyeball Dave. I’m not too sure it
made much difference, but Dave backed away slowly with Stacey
pulling at his arm. Part of me likes to believe that my iron stare
from behind Ollie's broad frame had Dave running scared.

“
Come on,
Dave, he’s not worth it,” Stacey whined.

“
I'll catch up
with you when your boyfriend isn't around, Danielle,” Dave said,
sarcastically blowing a kiss at me before exiting the
pub.

Ollie glared at the door a
second longer before returning to the bar and nonchalantly sipping
at his pint. “Well, you shit yourself, didn't ya?” he said
grinning.

“
Nah, not
really...” I stuttered. “I had it under control.” We both laughed.
“Thanks mate,” I said to Ollie. “I could have dealt with that,
but...”

“
No problem. I
know you could have, I just wanted to make sure it didn’t ruin your
night.”

“
Come on,
boyfriend, let’s drink up and get out of here before dangerous Dave
comes back.”

*

The next part of our plan was
simple – ruin Valentine’s Day for as many couples as possible. We
started by constantly calling and texting Rob and Jack, but soon
got bored of that when they switched their phones off and we had
left them three voice messages each. Next, we decided to annoy
people we didn't know. We stood opposite an Italian restaurant and
took the piss out of some poor guy as he spoon fed his girlfriend
ice cream. The look on the guys face as he clocked us pointing and
laughing from the other side of the glass was a picture.

We stopped at
every bar or pub we passed and got a drink in. We would stagger
past tables where couples were sitting together enjoying intimate
moments and insist we sing them a love song. Drunken renditions
of
I Wanna Know What Love Is
by Foreigner went down a treat. Well, we thought
it was funny. We must have been in seven or eight bars before we
made our way to South Wimbledon tube station with a kebab in hand
to finally call it a night. But the call of more alcohol whistled
in the air.

“
Shall we have
one for the road?” Ollie asked, pointing at the Kings Arms opposite
the station.

“
Why not,” I
replied and we staggered across the road.

Inside there was a live band
playing 60’s and 70’s rock songs to an older crowd than we had been
used to tonight. We sat at the bar and ordered our tenth beer of
the night and sang old rock anthems until our throats were hoarse.
All in all, it was turning out to be one of the best Valentine
Day's I'd ever had. And it was just about to get better.

“
Look at her,”
I gasped nearly falling off my barstool. I spotted a pretty little
strawberry blonde who was sitting on her own. She looked over at me
and I smiled at her. She shyly turned away, but then returned my
smile. Ollie didn’t really take much notice of me, and instead was
singing away with a grey-haired hippy he had befriended who was
wearing a black skull and crossbones vest top and showing off faded
tattoos on his arms.

I kept my gaze fixed on the
girl. I took another mouthful of lager, wiped my lips with my shirt
sleeve, and plucked up the courage to go over. “Can I sit down?” I
asked her. She smiled and nodded as I introduced myself.

Her name was Chloe. She said
she was 18 and at college. She looked so pure and so out of place
in an establishment like this. I struggled to hide how pissed I
was, but she didn't seem to mind, so I didn't let it bother me.
After a few minutes of chatting I asked if I could buy her a drink
and she agreed.

“
I'm well in
over there,” I said to Ollie as I returned to the bar to buy Chloe
a Malibu and pineapple juice. “You don't mind if I crack on with
her, do you?”

“
Not at all,”
Ollie slurred. “I've got Frank to keep me company,” and with that
Ollie and Frank broke back into song.

I gave Ollie a wink and headed
back to Chloe, only this time she was not alone. “Hello,” I said to
the woman with peroxide blonde hair and a fake orange tan. She must
have been in her 40s at least. She was attractive despite her hard
features, but dressed cheaply in a short denim skirt and a top that
left little to the imagination.

“
Who are you?”
she barked at me rather aggressively.

I saw Chloe nudge the woman and
give her a look. “I’m Dan,” I said handing Chloe her drink, and
offered the woman my hand. “And you are?”

“
I’m Chloe’s
mum,” she said snatching the drink out of Chloe's hand and smelling
the content. This was not good. I’d heard about these mothers who
went out on the pull with their daughters. “What are you doing
giving my daughter alcohol? She is only 15.”

I was immediately taken aback.
I looked at Chloe, who looked at her mum. “Mum!” she said in
horror.

“
I’m so sorry,
I thought she was 18,” I pleaded my case.

“
You sick
little pervert,” Chloe's mum said swigging back the Malibu and
pineapple juice I had bought for her underage daughter.

“
I swear I
didn't know,” I said again trying to calm the situation down.
“Sorry, Chloe, but you’re too young for me.” Chloe looked crushed.
I made my excuses and headed back to the bar where Ollie was still
singing with his new friend.

“
Drink up,” I
said. “We need to get out of here.”

“
But I thought
you were gonna bone that girl over there,” Ollie said, shouting
over the music.

“
Shhhh,” I
said holding my hand up to his mouth and looking around the bar in
case anyone had heard. “You're gonna get my head kicked
in.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder
and turned around to see the mum. “You like chatting up little
girls, do you?” she asked me, still drinking the Malibu I had
bought.

“
No, it was a
mistake. She told me she was 18,” I tried to explain
again.