Forever Is Over (89 page)

“
No! What sort of brother would I be,
if I let you go? This is your
stag do! Hopefully your only stag do! By Monday, it will all just be a
memory. You need to breathe in the vibes, savour the moments, for soon
your friends will scatter and you will be left with a fat wife, spoilt kids
and an enormous mortgage!
”

“
Thanks for that! Jemma
’
s not fat.
”

“
Not yet! Wait until she
’
s married! Women feast on contentment!
”

“
Anyway, I
’
d still love Jemma if she was fat.
”

“
No, you wouldn
’
t! Why do people say that and pretend to be nice?
You
’
d only love her until someone younger, prettier and skinnier gave
you a nod and a wink!
”

I stared at Jim like he was a lunatic, which he was.

“
Does Amy know all about your bizarre judgements on the female
species?
”

“
Yes. Amy
’
s aware that she
’
s the luckiest girl in the world!
”

“
I bet you tell her often enough!
”

“
Every day, mate! Every day!
”

Jim was still the misogynistic, chauvinistic pig, he had been since he
was a teenager or so he would have you believe. The truth was, when Amy
was around, he would do anything for her. Amy was most definitely the one who wore the trousers.

“
Jim, seriously, I need to go to bed!
”

“
Richie, this place will shutting up shop in half an hour, the boys
that don
’
t pull will be ready to go home with us then. Let
’
s go and join
them or at the very least, have another pint at the bar. My treat!
”

“
It isn
’
t a treat though, is it Jim?
”
I protested,
“
I must have had
thirty pints since we got to Denmark!
If I have another one, I might
drown!
”

“
Stopping being so melodramatic! These are your last days of
freedom! Enjoy them!
”

Jim still had the capacity to infuriate me like no other.

“
Will you shut up about it being the last days of freedom, Jim!
I
’
m
lucky to be marrying Jemma. She
’
s a bloody good woman, loyal,
passionate, interesting, beautiful, sexy, every day is an adventure and
I
’
m thankful that something or someone brought us together. I love her,
Jim. In fact, I don
’
t just love her, I adore her!
”

Jim feigned a yawn.

“
Bog off,
”
I continued,
“
anyway, 
can we not just get out of here? If none of these maniacs manage to
pull a desperate Dane, their attention will be turning to me in half
an hour. I
’
m the stag and I
’
ve had nothing depraved done to me yet.
Remember what they did to
‘
Dogger
’
in Brighton? Tied him to the
lamppost naked in the middle of the gay area, didn
’
t they? Covered him
in flour and then wrapped him in clingfilm! They didn
’
t collect him
until the following morning and it was
barely morning either, because
the pissheads overslept! His willy had
the girth of a baby worm when
they untied him!
”

Jim smiled knowingly at me.

“
Richie, I don
’
t know why you
’
re saying
‘
they
’
, from all accounts you
were one of the perpetrators!
”

“
Exactly! That
’
s why we have to flee now!
”

“
We could go here!
”

Jim dug deep into his trouser pocket and found a crumpled flyer
which he handed to me. Due to the darkness, my drunkenness and the
flashing lights, it was difficult to make out. There seemed to be a cartoon
on one side of the flyer with a semi-naked Danish version of
“
Jessica
Rabbit
”
. On the other side, it said something along the lines of,
‘
See the best of what Copenhagen has to offer, in the flesh. Two free entries with this flyer
’

“
Why would I want to go to another club, Jim?
”

“
It
’
s a lapdancing joint!
”

“
A what?
”

“
You pay for naked lovelies to dance for you!
”

“
I can
’
t be arsed Jim, I just want to go to sleep!
”

“
Richie, you get married in three weeks, you may never see a naked
woman again!
”

“
Jim, are you off again? Of course I will, Jemma! That
’
s the only
naked body I want to see.
”

“
Not necessarily.
”

“
Eh?
”

“
I told you, women feast on contentment, once they are full, they
don
’
t need sex. Sex for women is all about their uncertainty and the
desire to feel wanted. Once they know they are wanted they stop playing
the game. A cat only plays with a mouse until it kills it.
”

I laughed.

“
You talk some crap, Jim! You obviously don
’
t know Jemma! She has
a lot of sexual energy. It probably built up whilst she was in jail.
”

“
There was a bloke at work who was going out with a right horny
minx, but he says from the day he got married, he never saw his wife
naked again. Not once!
”

“
Who?
”

“
Ben Scott!
”

“
Ben Scott from Moss Delph Lane?
He
’
s got four kids!
”

“
I know he has, but he created them in darkness! She was another
one that went chunky after the wedding so she made him switch the light off!
”

“
Are you trying to put me off getting married?
”

“
No, but I do reckon the old jokes right!
”

“
Which one?
”

“
The one that says when a bride gets into the church, she sees three
things, the aisle, the altar and you and that
’
s what she
’
s thinking
…
..I
’
ll
alter you!
”

“
Jim, I am not going to the lapdancing joint!
”

“
Why?
”

“
I
’
m tired and I
’
m skint!
”

“
Skint! Don
’
t worry about that! I
’
ll pay!
”

“
You
’
re going to pester me until I agree to this, aren
’
t you?
”

“
That
’
s what brothers do!
”

“
Dizzy
”
finished and before my mates had chance to draw breath,
the DJ put on Carter The Unstoppable Sex Machine
’
s
“
Only Living Boy
In New Cross
”
and as the frenzy continued, Jim and I snuck out.

The lapdancing bar was rather amusingly called
‘
Nipples and Tipples
’
and was in a seedy looking road on the edge of the city. I have no idea
what part of the city it was, there just seemed to be bikes everywhere, so
Jim and I managed to find two that were not locked up, mine actually
had a basket and a bell on but I was past caring and I followed Jim as
he weaved his way across the city. Jim seemed to know exactly where
he was going, which probably meant he had made a strategic plan to go
lapdancing all along and had mapped his route out. We dumped the
bikes one hundred metres from the club and sauntered up a slight hill to
the entrance. We handed our flyer in to two tough looking bouncers in
penguin suits and were directed down a staircase that seemed to descend
forever. By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs, I was half
expecting to see a horned devil with a multitude of sinners ,shovelling
coal into a roaring furnace. Once I reached the dimly lit club though,
I did see the sinners but there was no horned devil, although Jim was
most definitely a horny devil. On arrival, we stood at the bottom of the
staircase, looking like naughty schoolchildren. Lapdancing joints were
not commonplace back then and, despite the drink, I had not felt this
embarrassed since I had charged into my parents bedroom as a fifteen
year old, to find my mother
’
s head at the top of the bed and my father
emerging sheepishly from the bottom end.

A tall, leggy lady with bright blue eyes and a black
‘
bob
’
came
towards us wearing little more than a beaded thong and a bra, barely
large enough to cover her nipples. She looked like she had escaped from a James Bond movie, probably wanting to escape the shackles of its
‘
PG
’
rating. She spoke English with a mid-atlantic drawl.

“
Hello Gentlemen! May I welcome you to
‘
Nipples and Tipples
’
!
My name is Marianne and I host the parties here. As you can see, we
are very busy this evening, our beautiful ladies are being admired by
many men. We currently only have tables available in our VIP area,
‘
The Lounge
’
. Would you gentlemen be interested in taking a table in
‘
The Lounge
’
?
”

Jim was excited by this prospect.

“
VIP! Absolutely! It
’
s my brother
’
s stag do, I
’
m going to be his best
man, so I need to make sure he has a great night!
”

             
Jim was talking to Marianne
’
s breasts which seemed to be having
the same effect on him as a hy
p
notist
s watch. Marianne was probably
totally dis
interested in the fact that it was my stag do and Jim was going
to be best man, but she politely played the game.

“
Well, you have come to the right place for a great night!
”

She
turned to me,
“
I am assuming you are the brother, right?
”

“
That would be me!
”
I replied.