Sunday 8 May 2011

BLUEBIRDS part 5

Well we'd sunk quite a few by now and like I said this old dear was getting emotional and like a typical male I wanted out. But I'd got the beer fuzz,one of those warm tingly comforting reassuring hoods of security that tells you that more alcohol would be a good thing. As much as the mini-bar and Pay Per View porn was calling me from the hotel room,guilt, and the fact that I never really liked drinking alone,i waved a note and ordered more beverages.

My drinking partner rested a liver spotted hand on my wrist and whispered seductively, ''call me Avril.'' And I don't know whether it was that stage of inebriation where you somehow think you are the most amazingly handsome man in existence and could make almost any woman weak at the knees at any one of you humourous quips or charming smiles,and if you couldn't they most definately were lesbians,but I thought she was hitting on me.  And I wasn't at all surprised to see that the lines she had running at the corners of her mouth making her look a little like a ventriloquist's dummy had smoothed over. I must've mistaken them before,some shadow,bad lighting or something but she was looking younger by the minute. As if by magic more booze appeared in front of us and there must have been some kind of Sci-Fi time lapse shit going on because before i'd so much as blinked it was drunk and fuck me if Avril didn't look like a dead ringer for Michelle Pfeiffer,and her neck,which was more exposed due to the opening of a few buttons,looked very very appealing.

Bluebirds part 6

The fingers I felt nestled in my chest hair were  boney with slightly saggy skin,the smell of lavender in the air made me feel queasy.
I risked opening one eye. Everything was an effort to do even this. One second was enough to see who these fingers belonged to, my eyelid shut a million times faster than it opened.
Avril,dear Avril.
Lesson for you youngsters and people of a sober nature; there are things called 'beer goggles'. They don't have to be specifically 'beer' ones but it's the phrase i'm most familiar with, but believe me they can be made from any alcohol. These beer goggles,if a particularly strong pair,can make the old young,the fat  curvaceous,the ugly beautiful, I should know i've been on the receiving end of a few ladies  Martini Monocles in my time.
Basically when you're pissed a fucking mop standing on it's end can look like a supermodel!

Avril.

She was curled up against me in a flimsy,for which I was grateful,white old person under garment. From what I could see I hoped that I hadn't, you know, shagged her. Hopefully I had been too drunk and judging by the bits of Avril on display to me,i never ever realised tits could do that,i prayed i'd just got it in a wrinkle or something.
Without waking her I slipped my clothes on,trying not to notice the bottom set of dentures on the bedside cabinet.
I gazed at my wrist watch,a quarter to nine in the morning. Pieces of the night before were coming back to me,some of which i'd rather not give you the satisfaction of knowing.
I left my hotel room and who should I bump into but the hot and sexy receptionist who I christened Aurora. She walked towards me looking less frantic than the last time I saw her,winked smiled and said, ''Ah, Avril Amore.''