Friday Night at the Flamingo Hotel (Friday night. Your Love is King part 2)
“Are you crying?”
You have made it. You are in your pink suit and you are in The Hot Top Bar and Grill.
Eusavio is by your side. He is in a cropped pink top with ‘Hot Dude’ emblazoned across his nipples, a pair of spanking white trainers as big as tug boats, and a skin tight pair of leggings that show the kind of bulge you imagined when your mother used to shout at your father, you’re no monster in the downstairs department, are you?
“I am not crying,” you say. “I am happy.”
But you are not happy. After just five minutes in The Hot Top Bar and Grill you have already had a number of comments from the clientele who are much younger and, even you can see, better dressed than you.
As you stand at the bar a man with huge muscles and tattoos pinches your bum in a threatening manner and says, “Alright grandad, why are you dressed up as a prawn?”
The young lady he is with laughs at this. Then everyone around starts to laugh too.
They point at you and they scream, tears rolling down their cheeks.
You had not meant to drink any more, you were going to stick to coke, but when the barman comes over you order two quadruples.
You ask him to hold the ice.
And the mixer.
On seeing the drinks Eusavio asks you what they are and you tell him they are vodka.
“Vodka?” he says and he tells you that he does not normally drink alcohol because he has been a health freak ever since he was eighteen years old and was called a weed by another boy on a beach in France and ever since then he has been building up his body so he can go back and box this boy on the nose, but in truth this will be hard, because he does not know the boy’s name or where he lives or even, if he is honest, what he looks like.
“And he might even have become a world champion boxer so I’ve got to be, you know, a bit careful.”
You would normally yawn at this story as you do not like it when people confess deep emotions to you because you do not care about anyone’s life but your own but you do not yawn and instead the story moves you as much as you were moved when you first read Anna Karenina and reached the part where, distraught, Anna threw herself under the train and, with tears in your eyes, you hold out your drink and you tell Eusavio to take a sip, he needs it, that one drink won’t kill him and that anyway, you are supposed to be celebrating him still being a free man, and he takes the quadruple vodka and he takes a long sip and his eyes open wide and he tells you that French boy can go and screw himself and he drains the glass and asks you to go and get him another one and you do, you go to the bar and order two more quadruples.
You are drunk and you are on the dance floor and Eusavio has taken off his t-shirt and a small crowd has gathered in a circle around him to admire the rippling muscles on his toned body. For a short time you are also within this circle but then you are kind of edged out and you are still dancing but now you are right at the back of the dance floor, near to the toilets, in the dark, and then somehow you get edged actually into the toilets and into a cubicle and the door somehow shuts.
But you are still dancing.
You hold your vodka up over your head.
You climb up onto the toilet seat.
You can feel the beat of the music through the thick toilet walls.
Your hips are moving.
Someone farts loudly at the urinals.
You are still dancing.
When you die you want to die dancing.
It is past two o’clock in the morning when Eusavio finds you. Around each arm he has a woman. And despite their large sagging bodies, thick glasses, and heavy make up which reminds you of a documentary you saw on Geisha girls you find them extremely attractive.
“Didn’t I tell you I would find us a couple of crackers,” Eusavio stage whispers leaning in towards you although as he says it so loudly it is clear the women can hear every word but it is also clear that as they are extremely inebriated they do not care, “and they are going to come home with us right now. What do you think about that?”
You think that you have never had three in a bed let alone four.
You think that you will not be able to perform with so many eyes upon you.
You worry that when the women see you naked next to Eusavio they will laugh at the sorry state of your pathetic body.
You worry that this night will turn out like all the other nights of your life and Eusavio will no longer want to be your friend.
But maybe, just maybe, this time it will be different?
Fixing Eusavio with a stare you say, “Let’s go ride ‘em cowboy!”
Eusavio says to the two women that he has always wanted to see two women kiss and it is clear from the way he says it that he means that he wants these two women to kiss.
You are in Eusavio’s room and he has thrown a pair of his underpants over the lamp to create the kind of lighting that is suitable for love making and he has put on a Sade CD and you find yourself humming nervously along.
The two women whisper together and then they say they will kiss each other but only if you and Eusavio will kiss each other first. You think this is a bad precedent to set, and you will be borne out in this reckoning, but Eusavio says that when he was thirteen he used to practice French kissing with his male cousin Tom and he will do it and you do it and as you feel Eusavio’s lips against yours the two women clap and scream on the bed and you wonder if this makes you gay.
Only if there are tongues, you tell yourself.
There are tongues.
One of the women produces a bag of white powder from inside her bag and tells you that it is cocaine and that she bought it because tonight was supposed to be her best friend’s hen do and they were to have one last blow out but unfortunately the bride to be had been killed in a car crash and so they had come out anyway as a kind of celebration of her life.
She had only been eighteen. And walked with sticks.
She probably shouldn’t have been driving anyway. She didn’t have a licence. But she had heard her fiancé was with another woman, me, says one of the large women, he was, says the other, and it was a last desperate midnight rush to save her marriage.
Until the car got stuck on a train crossing.
They found pieces of her all the way to Cleethorpes.
They had to bury her in a sack.
Well, the sack was in a coffin but, you know?
We did know.
Eusavio says that is a sad story but it seems a shame to waste the cocaine. He says he has never taken drugs before but tonight he is up for anything and that like seeing two women kissing he has often fantasised about snorting drugs off a woman’s ass.
You are naked now and Eusavio is naked and you know what the women are going to say even before they say it, that you and Eusavio have to snort the cocaine off each other’s asses before they will do it, but still you are surprised when Eusavio lies face down on the bed and tells the women to go for it.
He pulls apart his cheeks.
You wonder if this makes you gay.
Only if they put the cocaine in the crack, you suppose.
They put the cocaine in the crack.
It is after that that things get out of hand.
More out of hand.
The women are animals.
They are like the living embodiment of the domino effect.
You want to explain this theory to Eusavio and you can even imagine how you would do it, setting up his many shoes as dominos, pushing one and then watching the others fall, a perfect chain reaction, but you are way past this now.
You have gone too far.
Oh mother. Or father.
You will never be that little boy again. You don’t know if you ever were.
Five years old and being sent up to Mace on your birthday, to buy a packet of fags, and a present for yourself with the change.
That’s what hurts the most.
Still after all this time.
You close your eyes and open your mouth in an O.
And these are the last things you remember.
The lost things.
You are naked and on all fours on the bed. Eusavio’s hands are on your waist and you can feel him thrusting into you.
What are the women going to let you do to them in return you wonder? It will be wild sex like you have never had before. But as you crane your neck to look around the room you see that the door is open and the women have gone.
In the distance cars drift along the highway.
A light rain has started to fall.
The moon is out in full, like a dinner plate a small child has thrown up on.
Sade is still playing.
Your love is king, you hum to yourself and you close your eyes again and bury your head into the pillow.