The Drought (The hilarious laugh-out loud comedy about dating disasters!) (26 page)

2.10am: I just wanted to say it
was great meeting you tonight. Dan x

2.22am: I’m guessing you
crashed out as soon as you got home! I’ll give you a call tomorrow
x

2.31am: Goodnight x

9.34am: Morning, this is Dan
from last night – the guy with the dry-roasted peanuts. How is your
head? x

12.29pm: I’m heading to the
pier – give me a shout if you’re around and fancy meeting up x

My seventh, and final text,
sent 10 minutes ago, was a picture of myself, in case she had
forgotten what I looked like.

“
Danny boy,
put the phone away and forget her,” Rob said. “We still have
tonight.”

Rob was right. I was coming
across a little obsessive and that is never a good look. A drought
will do that to a man. I needed to just relax and whatever will be,
will be.

Perhaps I should make sure my
phone was on vibrate as well as ring.

“
Give me
that,” Rob said, snatching the phone out of my hand. “What’s wrong
with you?”

“
Maybe he’s
taken up stalking?” Ollie suggested.

“
No, I have
not taken up stalking thank you very much,” I said. I wouldn’t even
have a clue where to start if I did want to stalk Jules.

“
If I’ve said
it once, I’ve said it a thousand times,” Ollie started. “Get
yourself a large lass. Three words – Up. For. It. All the
time.”

“
That’s six
words,” I pointed out.

“
Eh?” Ollie
looked confused, counting the words on his fingers.

“
Maybe Ollie
is right,” Rob said. “Perhaps you need to drop your
standards.”

“
Agreed,” Jack
said. “Just pull some low-renter and get it out of the way. At
least then you can go back to being a happy stalker.”

“
I am not a
stalker,” I said, grabbing my phone back off of Rob and checking to
see whether Jules had replied. “Do you think you get service on the
pier?”

“
It’s
official. You’re a lost cause,” Rob said.

“
Even Ollie
has got more game than you, mate,” Jack shook his head in
disgust.

“
Cheers,
mate.” Ollie said smiling.

“
That wasn’t a
compliment, numbnuts,” Jack reprimanded him.

I looked at my friends. It was
clear they had lost all hope in me. My behaviour had descended into
a farce of desperation, and that is never a cool thing to let your
friends witness.

“
Don’t give up
on me,” I pleaded, shoving the phone back into my pocket. “I have
got game.” I looked at them hopefully.

And then looked at my phone
again to make sure it wasn’t on silent.

*

By the time eight o’clock
rolled round I had finally given up on waiting for Jules to
respond. I had allowed my bruised ego to get the better of me, and
had sent her a pathetic message telling her I wasn’t bothered that
she hadn’t replied because I didn’t fancy her that much anyway.

And the ninth message was sent
by Jack, who decided to take it upon himself to text her from my
phone asking for some dirty pictures while I was in the shower.

Maybe I was a
dare. Could it be that I was a
pig?
I tried not to dwell on it. My self-esteem had
taken enough knocks over the last few months and I didn’t need to
add to it.

“
Are you going
to be ready to go in five minutes, Bacon?” Jack asked. Luckily I
had my friends around to keep the Jules incident off my
mind.

I buttoned up
my shirt and stared at myself in the mirror. I might not have been
Balham’s answer to David Beckham, but I was certainly no pork
scratching either. The thought that I must have been nothing but
a
bit of fun
didn’t sit too well. That was the man’s job; to take a girls
number and not call. Was I so out of touch that the roles had now
reversed?

How could I have let this
happen? I was nothing but a plaything to Jules; used for one night
only and tossed to the side. I wasn’t just a pig; I was a piece of
meat. I felt used.

But then it
hit me. What if I was looking at this from completely the wrong
angle? After all, Rob had called Brighton ‘
a party capital where the girls are just as wild as the
guys
’
.

I rushed into the bedroom where
the boys were sitting on the bed watching television. I switched
the TV off and stood in front of them, ignoring their shouts to
turn it back on.

“
Listen!” I
shouted. “I get it.” They all stared blankly at me.

“
Get what?”
Rob asked with a puzzled look on his face.

“
I get
it,
” I repeated, hoping
it would sink in this time. Blank faces. “I’m talking about last
night. I got used
.
And I
like it!”

“
Well, it’s
about time,” Jack said springing to his feet to meet me with a high
five.

The thought of drunken girls
out on the pull, acting like men, filled me with renewed hope. I
had been so stressed out about making all the right moves that I
had completely forgotten that women have needs too.

“
I want to get
used again.” I had a taste for it now. “Tonight!”

“
What are we
waiting for?” Rob bellowed. “Come on!”

The four of us
strutted out of our hotel into the cool night air with purpose. If
our lives were a Hollywood film, our soundtrack would have
been
Stayin’ Alive,
because you could tell by the way we used our walk, we were
on the pull, no time to talk.

We barely got 200 yards from
our hotel before we arrived at the first bar. “Shall we start as we
mean to go on gentlemen?” I said pointing my thumb towards the
entrance. “First round’s on me,” I added as Ollie rubbed his hands
together in anticipation of that first drink of the night.

The place was quiet. A group of
lads sat in one corner while a couple of others stood at the bar.
But this was okay; this was just a warm-up. I decided to set-up a
tab.

“
Anyone fancy
a game?” Rob said pointing towards the pool table at the back of
the bar.

Why not? A few games of pool
and a couple of pints would get us in the mood and ease us into the
night.

“
I'll break,”
Jack said and he struck the white ball as hard as he
could.

“
This isn't a
bad place,” Rob said.

“
They do a
nice pint too,” Ollie chipped in, taking the cue from Jack. “Good
choice, Dan.”

“
I plan on
making a few good choices tonight, fellas,” I cracked.

“
Let's hope
there are a few girls up for pull-a-pig,” Jack quipped as he lined
up a shot, but the joke was on him as he managed to pot the white.
“Oh bollocks.”

“
Nice shot,
mate,” said a guy sat the corner of the bar, smirking. We all
turned around a little unsure what to say. Was he taking the piss
or being friendly?

“
I beg your
pardon, pal?” Jack said in his best cockney accent, shifting around
on the spot.

“
Sorry, I
didn't mean any offence,” the guy said, still smiling. “I'm just
waiting for some mates and I got here a bit early doors. Would you
mind if I played the winner?”

We all looked at each other.
London folk aren’t keen on talking to strangers at the best of
times, let alone letting them join us in a game of pool.

“
You can play
him, Jack,” Ollie said. “I am going to have a go on the
fruity.”

We all stared daggers at Ollie
as he strolled over to the bright lights of the fruit machine, but
Jack saw an opportunity. “Why don’t we make it interesting and play
for a tenner?” Jack asked the stranger.

“
Sure,” the
stranger said. “I'm Ethan by the way.”

I moved across to Jack as he
slapped a £10 note down on the side of the pool table. “What are
you doing?” I whispered to Jack as Ethan hung his jacket over the
chair.

“
Don't worry,
I've got it under control. Haven't you ever seen
The Colour of Money
? I'm
going to hustle this guy.” Jack moved over to Ethan and shook his
hand. I stood next to Rob. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I
sensed that something wasn't quite right. Ethan broke and a red
flew into the top right corner pocket.

“
Beginners’
luck,” Ethan said.

I watched as he placed a second
red into the middle pocket, before chalking his cue and making
another excellent shot to thunder his third red ball down. That's
when I realised what was wrong.

“
This guy is a
ringer,” I said out of the corner of my mouth to Rob. “He’s
hustling Jack.”

“
Of course
he’s hustling Jack,” Rob said without flinching. “I knew that the
moment I set eyes on him.”

“
Why didn't
you say anything?”

“
Because I
thought it would be funny to watch the cocky little git get a taste
of his own medicine for a change.”

I couldn’t help but smile as
Jack grew agitated, watching another red ball disappear into the
pocket. Surely it was only a matter of time before his £10
disappeared into Ethan’s pocket.

Ethan concentrated as he lined
up his next shot, but this time the ball ricocheted against either
side of the corner pocket and rolled out to safety.

“
Unlucky
buddy,” Jack said, not even bothering to hide his delight. “Now
watch an expert in action.” Jack strutted around like he was Ronnie
O'Sullivan, skilfully working his way around the table with that
cocksure swagger of his, potting yellow after yellow. After sinking
each ball he would look over at Ethan and shrug his shoulders
almost apologetically. The final yellow went down and Jack lined up
an easy black. This one was in the bag.

But Jack allowed his arrogance
to get the better of him and he missed the easiest shot of the
game, screwing the ball wide of the pocket.

“
That's not
fair,” Jack said. “This table is on a slant I think.” Jack bent
down and closed one eye as he inspected the level of the
table.

“
Looks okay to
me,” Ethan said as he potted another red.

“
Me too,” Rob
said with a big smile on his face.

Ethan sunk the rest of his
balls until just the white and black ball remained. Jack was
crestfallen, and bowed his head to accept his inevitable defeat.
Ethan chalked his cue and made the shot.

But he missed.

“
Yes!” Jack
said, clenching his fist. “Time to pay the piper.”

Jack concentrated as pulled the
cue back and struck the white sweetly. It hit the black ball and
with perfect accuracy arrowed the ball into the top left pocket.
Jack spun round with a huge smile on his face, but Ethan simply
raised his eyebrows and nodded back towards the table. We all
watched as the white ball trickled ever so slowly back down the
table and dropped into the middle pocket.

“
I told you
this bloody table was on a slant,” Jack moaned.

I chuckled as Rob scooped up
the money and handed it to Ethan. “You lost fair and square, Jack,”
Rob said.

“
Thanks mate,”
Ethan said taking the money before turning back to Jack. “Can I
give you some advice?”

“
Like what?”
Jack replied like a sulking child.

“
You should
work on positioning yourself slightly lower at the table. It will
help get the right type of spin on the ball. Let me show you.” Jack
reluctantly watched as Ethan showed him how to play the shot. “Why
don't you try?”

Ethan handed the cue to Jack
who once again showed his reluctance to listen to the stranger who
had just beaten him at pool and taken his money. Jack bent down
across the pool table.

“
No, not like
that, like this,” Ethan said, moving behind Jack and positioning
himself across his body to help show him how to correct his shot.
Jack looked more uncomfortable than I’d ever seen him as Ethan
gently moved his hand across Jack’s. A wolf whistle sounded from
the back of the bar as Ethan held Jack in an extremely compromising
position.

“
Room for one
more in there, darling?” the camp voice said from behind us. We
turned to see a guy in skinny jeans and a tight silk shirt staring
at us, seductively sipping a blue drink through a straw.

“
Oooh, you've
gone stiff as a board,” Ethan said to Jack.

“
I bloody
haven’t,” Jack said pushing himself away from Ethan.

“
Look, he has
gone all shy,” the man in skinny jeans said, joining Ethan at his
side. “Where did you find this lot? They look a bit rough, but
definitely ready.”

All of us stood motionless,
open-mouthed and speechless. None of us knew what to do.

“
Hey guys, I
just won a tenner on the fruity,” Ollie announced as he joined us
back at the pool table. “Result eh?”

“
I'm Dominic,”
the friend said, extending his feminine hand for Ollie to shake.
“Congratulations.”

“
Cheers,
mate,” Ollie said, completely oblivious of the situation. “I need
an eyelash. Do you know where the bogs are in this place?” Dominic
pointed Ollie to the end of the bar and he happily trotted off
counting his winnings.