Future Queens of England (28 page)

“One is the leader and the other is the sidekick,” one of the students said raising his hand.

“Exactly, you hit the nail on the head,” Ben said in an approving tone, pleased that they were understanding him.

“Now, as I said, these girls will try and make you their sidekick.  You must never allow this to happen,” Ben said masterfully.  “Now make this your mantra: 'Fag Hag not Hag's fag’.  Say it with me!” he ordered.

The class duly joined in with the chant, “Fag Hag not Hag's fag.”

“And again,” Ben shouted.

“Fag Hag not Hag's fag.” they chanted in frenzy.

“Good! Now don't you ever forget it,” he advised sternly.  “Whenever you are with her, keep repeating this over and over in your head.”

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins.  “Right, let's all calm ourselves down.  So, it’s assignment time.  I'm sure you can guess it this week.  Anyone?  Anyone?” he asked as he pointed to the students.

Bruce raised his hand eagerly.

“Yes Bruce, care to take a guess?” Ben said beaming, pleased in the knowledge that he had delivered another award-winning lecture.

“Is our assignment to go out and bag ourselves a fag hag?” he said grinning.

“He's got it in one,” Ben said to the class.  “Give him a clap then.”

The class clapped and cheered and Bruce blew kisses to them all.

“Now I want you all to think long and hard about your strategy.  I have told you before – treat this seriously. I have printed out this reading material,” Ben said as he handed the notes out.  “I suggest that you study it carefully.  You really can't afford to make any mistakes here. So study it hard.  This will be your bible.  Ideally you should memorise it.”

The class flipped through the pages quickly, eager to learn the secrets, and they chatted excitedly.

“How will we know when we've found the right girl?” Keenan asked with more than a hint of worry.

Ben smiled. “Oh, you'll know,” he replied enigmatically.  “Just make sure you're prepared.  When you find the right one you'll only get one shot at bagging her.  So don't screw it up.”

The bell rang and the class duly began to stand up as they prepared to leave.

“Final note,” Ben said seriously as he drew his lecture to a close.  “These girls have got feelings too.  I hate to repeat myself, but remember a fag hag is for life not just for Christmas.”

C
hapter
Fifteen

“No, there is no way I am coming with you!” Tony howled as he waved his hands at anyone who made eye contact with him.

“Jesus Tony, sometimes you really are a drama queen,” Keenan complained.  “Honestly, I don't give a shite if you come with us or not,” he turned back to the mirror and continued to preen himself.

Hugh shook his head and folded his arms in protest, “Look if Tony's not going then I'm not going.”

Suddenly Bruce started to pay attention, “What?  Oh Hugh, don't be like that.”

“Sorry, but if Tony stays, then I stay,” Hugh stated plainly.

Bruce frowned at Hugh as he decided what to say next.  “Why do you care if Tony goes or not?  Do you fancy him or something?” he added jealously.

Hugh grimaced, “Urgh, you must be joking,” and shuddered visibly.

Bruce's face lightened at Hugh's repulsion, “Oh that's good to hear.”

Hugh's eyes narrowed and he peered over at Bruce, he thought carefully before speaking.  “I already have someone special in my life, so no one else could even get a look in,” he smiled to himself, satisfied that this would let Bruce down gently.

“Since when?” Bruce said with disappointment.

“Since forever,” Hugh replied irritably that his last statement hadn't ended the discussion. 

“Really?  Well who is the lucky sod?” Bruce asked inquisitively, but not really wanting to hear the answer.

“George!  Remember?  Christ, sometimes I don't think you people ever listen to me.”

Bruce took his shoes off and put them back in his wardrobe despondently, “Oh yes, I do remember now.”

Uwe peered over at Bruce, “Why are you putting your shoes away?”

“Suddenly I don't feel like going out now,” Bruce said forlornly at Uwe.

“Oh for fuck's sake,” Keenan bemoaned.  “This is all your bloody fault Tony, you selfish bastard.”

“My fault?  Why is it my fault?”

“Right listen to me,” Gareth said calmly as he adjusted his tie in the mirror.  “Tony, would you like to get laid?” he said without taking his eyes off his magnificent reflection.

“Not with you queer boy,” Tony said as he wrestled with the decision of making daggers at Gareth's reflection or at the back of Gareth's head.

Gareth saved Tony's brain the trouble and turned around to face him directly.  He straightened his shirt sleeves and sighed.  “Only in your dreams!  But seriously, I meant would you want to sleep with a woman tonight?”

Tony contemplated this, trying to work out the hidden meaning.

Gareth turned back to the mirror and teased the tips of his hair, “It's a simple question Tony.  Just answer me.  Do you want to sleep with a woman tonight?”

“Yes,” Tony said plainly.

Gareth's reflection smiled back at Tony.  “Thank you,” he said before turning around and casually throwing a long grey scarf around his neck.  “Okay, then.  So next question, what are the chances of you meeting a woman by mooching round in this boudoir all night?”

Tony scratched his head, “Pretty slim I suppose.”

Gareth nodded, “Exactly!  Now we are making progress.”  He took out a little roller and ran it over his shoulders to remove any lint.  “Brace yourself Tony, here comes another question.”  He bent his head slightly and inspected his shirt and jeans, satisfied that all the offending lint had been removed he spoke again, “So, who do you think the clientele are at a gay club?”

“Easy!” Tony said enthusiastically, “Benders, bummers, homos, faggots...”

“Yes, of course,” Gareth said interrupting him.  “But who else?”  He tilted his head sideward a little as he waited for Tony to respond.

“Dunno,” came Tony's reply.  “Enlighten me.”

Gareth pursed his lips for a moment before speaking, “Heterosexual women!”

“Women?” 

“Yes!  Heterosexual women!” Gareth reaffirmed.  “And why do you think these women will be at a gay club?”

“Dunno,” Tony repeated as he strained to think of a reason.

“It's simple.  To have a night away from being leered at by men,” Gareth explained before sliding on a pair
of
expensive Italian shoes.

“Really?” Tony said with a gasp.  He suddenly stopped and looked quite angry, “Hang on.  Are you taking the piss?”

Gareth stared at his shoes unable to take his eyes off them, “No, I am not taking the piss and yes, it will really be full of women?” 

“Interesting,” Tony said starting to consider the possibilities.

“And do you know what happens when there is nobody there to leer at them?” Gareth continued.

“Tell me,” Tony demanded hungrily.

Gareth smirked, “They stop feeling attractive,” he said sagely.

“What?  Explain that to me.”

Gareth looked up from his shoes and smiled at Tony, “Women moan and complain about men coming on to them, chasing them.  They say they are tired of the innuendo and the leering, but the minute that it actually stops they start to feel empty inside.”

“I see, I see,” Tony said breathlessly as he welcomed this epiphany.

Gareth walked over to Tony.  “It gets better,” he said.

Tony grabbed Gareth's arms, “Go on.  Tell me,” he begged.

Gareth pushed Tony back, “Careful of the outfit Tony.”

“Sorry, sorry.  Please go on!”

“Alright, let me ask you another question,” Gareth said as he inspected and readjusted his clothes.  “How many straight men do you think will be at the club tonight?”

“I don't know Gareth, how many?”

Gareth looked Tony in the eye and grinned, “Probably none.”

Tony looked puzzled as he tried to put the pieces together to make sense of Gareth's wisdom.  “You have to help me here, what are you getting at?”

Gareth smirked, “Well, let me put it like this Tony.  If you come with us you'll probably be the only realistic option for the night for all those straight, lonely, empty women.”  The words dripped from Gareth's mouth like honey.

“Really!” Tony gasped breathlessly.  He could hardly believe the information that was being imparted to him.  He felt like he'd found one of the golden tickets to Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory.  “How do I know that is true,” he said stuttering, “surely straight blokes have realised this and the place will be heaving with them?”

“Well, some do know about this Tony and those that do try everything they can to get into the club,” Gareth explained, “but the bouncers won't allow straight men in.  They just refuse them entry, it is a gay club after all.  They won't accept straight men but they don't mind straight women.  Potential fag hags you see,” he said tapping his nose.

“This is amazing information Gareth.  But answer me this, how will I get in if there are no straight men allowed?”

“Simple,” Gareth stated.  “You'll be with us.   It's hard to spot the geranium in a field of pansies Tony.”

“Are you lying to me?  Because if you are...” Tony threatened as he cracked his knuckles.

“Now Tony, would I lie to you?  And anyway let's face it, you need to come to try and get yourself a fag hag, else you'll fail the assignment.  So are you coming or not?”

Tony thought for a moment, “Yes, let me quickly wash my knackers in the sink and get my pulling gear on and I will be ready.”

Uwe pulled a face of disgust, “Charming.”

“Right, one down,” Gareth said with an air of satisfaction.  “So Hugh, now that Tony's coming, will you come?”

“Yeah, if Tony's going then I'll go too,” Hugh said quickly.

“Two down!”  Gareth grinned before he turned to Bruce, “And you Bruce?  Will you be joining us now?”

No sooner had the words left Gareth's lips than Bruce raced over and took out his shoes again, “Try and stop me.”

Gareth allowed himself to a moment of self congratulation, “Great!  Problem solved.”  He walked over and picked up his silver clip and wad of notes.  “Uwe, Marc, Giles, get your coats we're going to the gay bar.”

They waited impatiently as the queue snaked a line outside the gay bar, dressed to kill as usual, but this time Tony had pulled out all the stops and sported his new look proudly.

“Come on, come on,” Tony said with gritted teeth as he looked around nervously.

Gareth frowned, “What's your hurry Tony, I didn't think you'd be that desperate to get in there.”

“I'm not particularly desperate to get in there, I am just panicking that someone I know will see me queuing in line to get in,” he explained.

Gareth laughed heartily, “Tony, do you think that anyone will even recognise you.”  He paused for a moment to let Tony consider this before going on.  “I bet you don't even recognise yourself when you look in the mirror some days.”

Tony's mood lightened, “You know what, you've got a point there.”

“I saw him almost pick a fight with his own reflection,” Uwe said derisively. 

Tony chuckled, “That's bloody true.  I just saw some swine staring at me and it took me a moment to realise it was me.”

The line shuffled a few steps forward as another set of punters entered the club.

Hugh turned his head slightly and whispered to Tony, “Hey, don't wander off in there okay?”

Tony frowned, “What do you mean wander off?  Where the hell do you think I'm going to go?”