Almost Perfect

BOUNCER BEN IS WONDERING WHY HIS NOSE GOT BROKEN

It had been a long night. Actually, it seemed to have gone on for… well, Ben wasn’t quite sure, but he was quite snug, really. Even in the pouring rain, he was wrapped up warm, and the heat fairly blasted out of the club’s doors along with the music, which, although it wasn’t normally his kind of thing, he had to admit, was pretty spectacular. He’d work at the Temple for free, if it meant listening to the music. Of course, he was too wise to say that kind of thing. Professional pride. But he liked to think they knew.

And since he’d turned his phone off, his wife had stopped ringing him to demand he come home.

Something was wrong with that sentence. Hmm.

He snapped awake as he heard steps on the metal stairs above him. He watched as two women walked down them. One was startlingly beautiful and having trouble with her shoes. The other was holding out a small blue phone thing. He decided it was best to look business.

The beautiful one stepped up. ‘Hello, mate,’ she said, surprisingly. ‘Two, please. We’d like to disco very much.’

Her companion glanced at her in something like shock and then turned to Ben. ‘How much, please?’

Ben looked at them both. ‘I’m sorry. It’s a private party.’

The stunning one leaned closer and smiled. Ben noticed her friend was rolling her eyes. ‘Oh come on now, surely you can make an exception for us? We’re always where the party’s at.’

The other one stepped forward. ‘Thing is, see, we’ve got a friend in there, we said we’d join him and…’ She made to step through, but Ben moved easily out to block her.

He looked at them both, patiently. Lasses like this, it was worth telling it to them frankly. He put on his firmest voice. He knew what it was like – a night out on the lash, few too many bottles of blue alco-piddle, kebab, loud vows to party on past dawn. He’d had nearly eight years of it, and was an expert in turning people gently but firmly away.

‘Now listen, ladies, why don’t you go home and have a cup of tea?’ he began, talking first to the tall, stunning one. ‘Now, you – pretty girl like you, this isn’t really your place to find a fella. Waste of effort, if you know what I mean. And you,’ he said, turning to the second woman, not unkindly. ‘Well, I’m afraid we’ve got our quota of fag hags.’

Gwen broke his nose.