Forever Is Over (90 page)

Those breast
s were drawing me in
too. I tried to keep my eyes off them so as not to render myself as a
stereotypical male.

“
What is your name?
”
Marianne asked smiling.

“
Richie.
”

“
And you
r
brother is
…
?
”

“
Jim.
”

“
Well Richie, I really hope you and Jim enjoy spending time with
our beautiful ladies here tonight, but please remember, no touching the
ladies! Please save your touching for your wedding night!
”

“
I think Jim is going to be enjoying this experience more than me!
”
I said pointing at my brother who was staring around in every direction
like a meerk
at on sentry duty, as scantily clad women moved through
in all directions. It was like a Heathrow terminal purely for drunken
businessmen and strippers!

“
Gentlemen, follow me!
”
said Marianne, leading the way through
the throng and the thongs. There was a feast of gyrating hips attached
to pretty young women of all hair colours and ethnicities. We
passed through two sets of curtains, until we reached an area that was
minimalistic but looked like the budget had been stretched a little for
this section. Chandeliers replaced disco lights, tables were glass rather
than wooden and cigarette stained. It looked like the same club but
classier. The same could be said for the women. The ladies appeared
more sophisticated, a bit more sassy and chic and on the whole, the men
looked older, balder and no doubt richer. Jim and I bucked the trend.
Marianne saw us to our seats.

“
Can I get drinks for you two gentlemen?
”
Marianne asked.

“
Can you get us a bottle of champagne, please!
”
Jim piped up.

“
Any preference? Would you like me to run through what we have
or maybe get you a price list?
”

“
No!
”
Jim insisted,
“
just bring us a top quality champagne and two
glasses!
”

“
Jim!
”
I whispered,
“
should we not get a price list? It could cost you
a fortune!
”

“
Hush brother! I am proud to be buying a fine champagne for my
big brother! Sod the expense!
”

Marianne went off to find the bottle of champagne with the biggest
mark up and as she departed, our table was soon welcoming an African-
American stunner that is difficult for me to describe. Difficult for me
to describe, not because she was incredibly glamorous, but because my
intense drunken state triggered night time narcolepsy and cataplexy, if
such a thing existed. We were sat on a semi circular sofa that arched
around a glass table, faced with a woman that could have walked straight
off the runways of Milan or Paris, but all I needed to do was sleep. I
remember her coming over and I remember her asking if anyone would
like a dance but I slumped into a foetal position on that sofa and from
there on in, the night was, how I imagine one long LSD trip to be, I was
totally aware of my bizarre surroundings, but I was totally incapable of
reacting to them. I could hear Jim asking for drink after drink, joking
with the lapdancers, having them sit on his knee, which given the no touching rule, I imagine came at a price, but I was too out of it to pick
myself up. After a long period of impersonating a giant foetus, but
probably making myself look like a giant faeces, Jim propped me back
up.

“
Mate, do you remember when you first met Kelly?
”

I nodded. The ability to speak had now temporarily been with
drawn.

“
It was at The Birch
’
s party, wasn
’
t it?
”
I nodded once more.

“
And you said that if you hadn
’
t been out with Kelly, your opinion
of Jemma would never have changed. Right?
”

I nodded less vigorously third time, as it was beginning to make
me feel sick.
“
Well, do you remember you managed to get to the Birch
’
s party that night?
”

“
Taxi.
”
I mumbled, surprising myself that I had some sort of deep,
confused voice.

“
That
’
s right, Richie and who paid for that taxi? It was me, wasn
’
t
it?
”

“
Uh-huh!
”
I groaned.
‘
Just let me sleep
’
, I thought,
‘
please let me
sleep!
’

“
Well, I need the favour repaying. These girls need to be paid for
the fine work they have done already and the work that they are yet to
do.
”

I turned my head to look at them. There were a lot of them. Five,
six, maybe more, I am not sure what was real and what was a double
triggered by my weary brain.

“
OK.
”
I responded.
“
My credit cards are in my wallet, I
’
ll pay.
”

“
Good boy!
”

Jim allowed me to slump back down but five minutes later some
random female voice asked if I could sign a form. I heard giggles and
mock flirtation and music and champagne corks, but all I wanted to
do was sleep, which was not altogether easy, as every time I managed
to start to doze, I was prompted for another signature. Eventually, Jim
realised he was in no fit state to continue and hoisted me up and told me
that it was time to hit the road. For his own amusement, once we were
outside, Jim put me back on a bike, but after dropping off it to my left
once and to my right once, he decided enough was enough, put a big,
chubby, brotherly arm around me and steered me back to our hotel.

The following lunchtime, myself, Jim and the eight others were in a
mini bus, all looking paler than Casper, heading towards Copenhagen
airport when my mobile phone rang. It was one of those sturdy mobiles
that were just coming into regular use back then and was big enough to
double up as a bed for a Chihuahua.

“
Hello,
”
I croaked in a voice that needed its next dose of water and
paracetamol.

“
Hello, is that Mr.Billingham? Mr. Richard Billingham?
”
a male
voice asked.

“
Yeeeerrrsss
”
, I groaned as if it was pain
ful to even say three letters.

             
“
Its Middleland Bank Visa here, Mr. Billi
ngham. We just wanted
to check that you are currently in Copenhagen?
”

“
I am,
”
I replied,
“
but how did you know?
”

“
There was some unusual activity on your credit card last night, sir.
We just wanted to ensure it was not a fraudulent transaction?
”

“
I haven
’
t used my credit card whilst I
’
ve been here!
”
I protested.
“
There must be some mistake!
”

“
It was at 4.30 am this morning, at a place called
‘
Nipples &
Tipples
’
?
”

“
Oh
,
yeah!
”
I said feeling my pale skin turn crimson,
“
that was
me!
”

“
That
’
s fine sir,
”
said the voice,
“
enjoy the rest of the trip.
”

As soon as I put the phone down, it started to ring again. I started
to panic and without answering it, I began feeling for receipts in my
pocket. I dug out the full contents of every pocket.

I prodded Jim who was snoring next to me. He didn
’
t move. I flicked
his nose as hard as I could. Jim and his ruffled hair sat up. He looked
jaundiced.

“
What?
”
he asked, not sounding as exuberant as he had in the club.

“
How much in pounds is four thousand krone?
”
I asked.

Jim paused for a few seconds to think.

“
Just under five hundred quid.
”

“
Shit!
”
I said.
“
SHIT!
”

“
What
’
s up, Richie?
”
someone asked.

“
Last night, lapdancing.
”
They were the only words I could manage
to get out.

“
Richie, forget about it.
”
Jim said,
“
We had a great night. If you had
stayed awake, you would have loved it, it was a Leonard Cohen themed
lapdancing club. The manager was a b
ig Leonard Cohen fan, so every
girl had a name based on a song of his. Marianne, Suzanne, Chelsea.
Iodine, Janis
,
what an amazing place! If you had to pay five hundred
quid, just for a brief glimpse of it, then it was worth it. Don
’
t stress! It
’
s
a stag do, these things happen. Put it down to experience!
”

“
Jim, if it was just five hundred quid, I could just about it handle it!

But its not just one receipt for four thousand krone, its
…
..
”
I said counting
the receipts out onto my lap,
“
one, two, three, four, five, six, seven,
eight! That
’
s almost four grand! I didn
’
t even see a fucking tit!
”

As I was kicking off, we went into a tunnel,

“
Look out the window, Richie!
”
I heard Andy
“
Dogger
”
Woodward
shout.

“
Why?
”
I asked,
“
I can
’
t see anything, its dark, I can only see
myself.
”

“
Well, at least you
’
ve seen a fucking tit now!
”

The mini bus erupted into laughter and I was left to contemplate whether I could hide the fact that I had lost four thousand pounds in
my sleep, from Jemma, for the rest of my life!

Brad

I
’
m a big bloke now. I
’
m forty and Tyrene says if I keep supping the
tinnies at this rate it won
’
t be long before I
’
m forty stone! I
’
m nineteen
stone right now and if I had a dollar for every time Tyrene called
me a
“
big, fat, lazy bastard
”
, I could charter a yacht and sail to the
Whitsundays and we live in Perth! These days, when I have a shower, I
lose half the water in those ripples of fat on my belly and I
’
ve got bigger
tits than a Pommie cricket ground on a sunny day.