the soft, high tones of a choirboy. My fear has definitely got me tripping. It’s like I’m in some freaky, alternate universe.
Bear’s hand lingers in the air between us and he looks from me to Lilah before singing out a giggly “Oh, fuck it” and pulling me into his arms to twirl me around just the way he did to Lilah a few moments ago.
What the fuckity fuck is going on here?
I’m in a deadly biker den, being spun around in the arms of a man mountain with the voice of Alan Carr; a man mountain who is now giggling like a school girl.
Through tears of laughter, I hear Lilah say, “Oh for heaven’s sake, put him down, Bear.”
Bear obliges, but not before giving me a crippling squeeze and a kiss on the forehead.
“He’s cute; you can bring him again.”
He swats me on the arse and sends me back to Lilah, who gives him half-arsed look of warning that she can’t pull off due to the smile on her lips.
“We’ve just come in for a quick drink. I promised Harry a ride in Clarabelle for helping me today. I’m not sure he quite expected this reception, though. So behave-” she looks around the assembled motley crew and adds, “-the lot of you.”
Bear does a little curtsy and nods to the far end of the room.
I turn to see a long, wooden bar fill the entire back wall and a tatted, Hispanic looking guy, with glossy long black hair nods back.
“Whatcha having Lils? I got some new draft ales in.”
She pulls me along beside her, and leads me through the mass of tables, smiling sweetly at all the guys who greet her along the way.
We step up to the bar, and I can feel every eye in the place still boring into my back.
One drink, then we can go. One drink, then we can go.
I repeat the mantra in my head, vowing never to take a cute bunny up on an offer of a ride, ever again.
“I’ll take a draft and Harry would like a whiskey neat, please, JC.”
“Sure thing, pretty girl.” JC answers and it’s at this point that I finally take in his attire.
He has on the same black leather biker vest as everyone else, but the bar was concealing what he has on his bottom half, until now.
JC has on a short, pleated leather skirt and fire engine red, stiletto heels.
I don’t know whether to stare or not. So I settle on looking back up at his face, catching matching jewelled nipple rings as I do.
Moments later, a neat whiskey is placed in front of me and half an ale is handed to Lilah.
I waste no time in knocking back my drink and slamming the glass back down on the bar.
Lilah, who was taking her first sip of ale and now has a frothy moustache on her top lip, puts her glass down after one sip and licks away the residue.
In other circumstances, I would have offered to help in some way, but not only has the girl got me not knowing which way is up, but she’s also taken me to a pub that must be part of the Twilight Zone.
Blinking up at me with innocent eyes she asks, “Do you want another?”
I shake off the feeling I get whenever she makes direct eye contact with me and clear my throat, “Actually, I’ve… uh… just remembered that I have plans and need to get back. I think I’ll call a taxi.”
My chest tightens when her face drops. A crestfallen look taking over her features and the sparkle in her eyes dimming.
“Oh, okay. I can take you back. I don’t need to finish. Just let me say Goodbye to the guys.”
She turns and walks away from the bar, straight up to the table where Bear and his friends sit. She whispers something in his ear, and they both look my way. I can’t help but feel like an arsehole for making her leave, but this shit is just weird.
In fact, this whole experience tops date number twelve, post-balls, and my encounter with Mr Puss Puss.
This is a whole other scale of freaky and the boys are going to wet themselves when they hear about it. If I ever decide to tell them.
Who am I kidding? I’ll need to offload this wacky shit on someone, even if they laugh themselves hoarse when
Bear’s hand lingers in the air between us and he looks from me to Lilah before singing out a giggly “Oh, fuck it” and pulling me into his arms to twirl me around just the way he did to Lilah a few moments ago.
What the fuckity fuck is going on here?
I’m in a deadly biker den, being spun around in the arms of a man mountain with the voice of Alan Carr; a man mountain who is now giggling like a school girl.
Through tears of laughter, I hear Lilah say, “Oh for heaven’s sake, put him down, Bear.”
Bear obliges, but not before giving me a crippling squeeze and a kiss on the forehead.
“He’s cute; you can bring him again.”
He swats me on the arse and sends me back to Lilah, who gives him half-arsed look of warning that she can’t pull off due to the smile on her lips.
“We’ve just come in for a quick drink. I promised Harry a ride in Clarabelle for helping me today. I’m not sure he quite expected this reception, though. So behave-” she looks around the assembled motley crew and adds, “-the lot of you.”
Bear does a little curtsy and nods to the far end of the room.
I turn to see a long, wooden bar fill the entire back wall and a tatted, Hispanic looking guy, with glossy long black hair nods back.
“Whatcha having Lils? I got some new draft ales in.”
She pulls me along beside her, and leads me through the mass of tables, smiling sweetly at all the guys who greet her along the way.
We step up to the bar, and I can feel every eye in the place still boring into my back.
One drink, then we can go. One drink, then we can go.
I repeat the mantra in my head, vowing never to take a cute bunny up on an offer of a ride, ever again.
“I’ll take a draft and Harry would like a whiskey neat, please, JC.”
“Sure thing, pretty girl.” JC answers and it’s at this point that I finally take in his attire.
He has on the same black leather biker vest as everyone else, but the bar was concealing what he has on his bottom half, until now.
JC has on a short, pleated leather skirt and fire engine red, stiletto heels.
I don’t know whether to stare or not. So I settle on looking back up at his face, catching matching jewelled nipple rings as I do.
Moments later, a neat whiskey is placed in front of me and half an ale is handed to Lilah.
I waste no time in knocking back my drink and slamming the glass back down on the bar.
Lilah, who was taking her first sip of ale and now has a frothy moustache on her top lip, puts her glass down after one sip and licks away the residue.
In other circumstances, I would have offered to help in some way, but not only has the girl got me not knowing which way is up, but she’s also taken me to a pub that must be part of the Twilight Zone.
Blinking up at me with innocent eyes she asks, “Do you want another?”
I shake off the feeling I get whenever she makes direct eye contact with me and clear my throat, “Actually, I’ve… uh… just remembered that I have plans and need to get back. I think I’ll call a taxi.”
My chest tightens when her face drops. A crestfallen look taking over her features and the sparkle in her eyes dimming.
“Oh, okay. I can take you back. I don’t need to finish. Just let me say Goodbye to the guys.”
She turns and walks away from the bar, straight up to the table where Bear and his friends sit. She whispers something in his ear, and they both look my way. I can’t help but feel like an arsehole for making her leave, but this shit is just weird.
In fact, this whole experience tops date number twelve, post-balls, and my encounter with Mr Puss Puss.
This is a whole other scale of freaky and the boys are going to wet themselves when they hear about it. If I ever decide to tell them.
Who am I kidding? I’ll need to offload this wacky shit on someone, even if they laugh themselves hoarse when
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