turned to the beautiful woman. ‘You all right?’
She nodded. ‘Thank you for that. You were really kind to help out.’
‘It was nothing,’ replied Phil, suddenly self-conscious. ‘I hope that it doesn’t spoil your evening.’
Content to relive every nanosecond of their altercation (an event that quickly became known as The Time We Kicked Arse While Wearing Reservoir Dogs Suits) the next twenty minutes passed by in a blur of posing and posturing. Just as even Deano was beginning to murmur that maybe they had spent too long in the queue, a large group left the bar and the door staff began letting people in again and in no time at all the boys were second in the queue.
Readying themselves for their first encounter with Dutch door staff the boys tried to make themselves as presentable as they could fixing ties and sorting out collars. One of the bouncers, a tall wide-neck manmountain lifted the rope at the front of the entrance and then addressed the women: ‘ Horen deze heren bij u? ’
Phil breathed a sigh of relief. Despite their suits the doorman had seen the boys for exactly what they were: six British blokes on a stag do – the very epitome of the kind of customer any half-decent Dutch drinking establishment would not want to entertain for the evening. Soon they would be turned away and left with no choice but to find themselves a proper pub where they could drink, argue and talk nonsense without cause to contemplate the opposite sex.
But then the beautiful woman turned, winked at Phil and without missing a beat said in English: ‘Yes, they are.’
6.
Phil had no idea what to think but as the doorman ushered the boys inside he reasoned that at the very least they would soon be getting a drink. A combination of the chips, the queuing and their near fight had sobered him up and he was now desperate to get back to that easy-going state of mind that he’d enjoyed earlier in the evening.
Inside, Phil made sure not to be too close to the women ahead in case they feared that he was going to spend all night following them and making a nuisance of himself following his good deed. Once they were past the second set of doors, however, the women peeled off to the right and joined a group at a table opposite the huge plate glass windows that looked out on to the street and Phil made sure to go the opposite way.
As the boys gathered Phil glanced over at the woman and she looked up at him and smiled. Phil smiled back and to show his appreciation of her kindness in a non-threatening manner devoid of all sexual connotations gave her the thumbs-up and immediately regretted it.
‘I just gave that girl who got us in here the thumbs-up,’ shouted Phil over the bar’s club music, as the woman looked on confused.
‘We know,’ yelled Deano, lines of laughter apparent at the corner of his eyes. ‘We saw. After that public display of eighties-style sign language I think you’ve pretty much ruined all our chances. You gave her the wacky thumbs-up, fella! Even with the best will in the world there’s no coming back from that mate. Beer?’
Phil nodded. ‘I’ll have whatever they’ve got. Just make sure it’s cold and strong.’
Led by Simon, the boys headed off to get the drinks leaving Phil alone with Deano. Phil had been to many bars like The Lab in his time and he had loathed every aspect of them from their pretentious decor through to their even more pretentious clientele. These weren’t so much places to have a drink and a catch up with mates but rather places that people went to in order to see and be seen, as though the very act of having made it past the door staff made you something special.
Phil did not feel special. In fact having compromised his beliefs by coming here he felt sort of dirty and soiled and wished he could be in their usual corner in Deano’s pub back in Beeston, sipping Carlsberg while cracking jokes about Degsy’s love life.
‘What are we doing here?’ asked Phil as a couple of
She nodded. ‘Thank you for that. You were really kind to help out.’
‘It was nothing,’ replied Phil, suddenly self-conscious. ‘I hope that it doesn’t spoil your evening.’
Content to relive every nanosecond of their altercation (an event that quickly became known as The Time We Kicked Arse While Wearing Reservoir Dogs Suits) the next twenty minutes passed by in a blur of posing and posturing. Just as even Deano was beginning to murmur that maybe they had spent too long in the queue, a large group left the bar and the door staff began letting people in again and in no time at all the boys were second in the queue.
Readying themselves for their first encounter with Dutch door staff the boys tried to make themselves as presentable as they could fixing ties and sorting out collars. One of the bouncers, a tall wide-neck manmountain lifted the rope at the front of the entrance and then addressed the women: ‘ Horen deze heren bij u? ’
Phil breathed a sigh of relief. Despite their suits the doorman had seen the boys for exactly what they were: six British blokes on a stag do – the very epitome of the kind of customer any half-decent Dutch drinking establishment would not want to entertain for the evening. Soon they would be turned away and left with no choice but to find themselves a proper pub where they could drink, argue and talk nonsense without cause to contemplate the opposite sex.
But then the beautiful woman turned, winked at Phil and without missing a beat said in English: ‘Yes, they are.’
6.
Phil had no idea what to think but as the doorman ushered the boys inside he reasoned that at the very least they would soon be getting a drink. A combination of the chips, the queuing and their near fight had sobered him up and he was now desperate to get back to that easy-going state of mind that he’d enjoyed earlier in the evening.
Inside, Phil made sure not to be too close to the women ahead in case they feared that he was going to spend all night following them and making a nuisance of himself following his good deed. Once they were past the second set of doors, however, the women peeled off to the right and joined a group at a table opposite the huge plate glass windows that looked out on to the street and Phil made sure to go the opposite way.
As the boys gathered Phil glanced over at the woman and she looked up at him and smiled. Phil smiled back and to show his appreciation of her kindness in a non-threatening manner devoid of all sexual connotations gave her the thumbs-up and immediately regretted it.
‘I just gave that girl who got us in here the thumbs-up,’ shouted Phil over the bar’s club music, as the woman looked on confused.
‘We know,’ yelled Deano, lines of laughter apparent at the corner of his eyes. ‘We saw. After that public display of eighties-style sign language I think you’ve pretty much ruined all our chances. You gave her the wacky thumbs-up, fella! Even with the best will in the world there’s no coming back from that mate. Beer?’
Phil nodded. ‘I’ll have whatever they’ve got. Just make sure it’s cold and strong.’
Led by Simon, the boys headed off to get the drinks leaving Phil alone with Deano. Phil had been to many bars like The Lab in his time and he had loathed every aspect of them from their pretentious decor through to their even more pretentious clientele. These weren’t so much places to have a drink and a catch up with mates but rather places that people went to in order to see and be seen, as though the very act of having made it past the door staff made you something special.
Phil did not feel special. In fact having compromised his beliefs by coming here he felt sort of dirty and soiled and wished he could be in their usual corner in Deano’s pub back in Beeston, sipping Carlsberg while cracking jokes about Degsy’s love life.
‘What are we doing here?’ asked Phil as a couple of
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