Date Night

“I told him I had a date.”

“Why did you do that?”

“So he’d take his son for the night.”

“You lied to your ex about having a date so you could have a night without your son? Doesn’t sound like you?”

“Well, he doesn’t ask to take Harry and Harry asked why he never sees daddy, and while I’m fine with Shithead having no influence over my son, it’s not fair on Harry. Obviously I didn’t want to tell Numbnuts that his son was asking for him, so I told a small lie. Doesn’t hurt that it makes it look like I have a life and will hopefully rub him up the wrong way! God, Honey, does that make me a terrible mother?”

“No! You’re a brilliant mother! Harry is an angel because of you. He’s so smart, and kind, and polite. He didn’t get any of that from Twatface.”

“Thing is, Knobhead has some mates down my road, so I do actually have to get dressed up and go out.”

“So I’ve driven forty miles to sit alone in your house while you pretend to go out on the town with an imaginary date?”

“No silly! You’re coming with me.”

“Firstly, all my dressy-up clothes are at home. I only have welly boots to help you in the garden and my ratty Converse and jeans. Secondly, I’m here for a week because I’m unemployed, so I can’t afford to go out on the town. I don’t think you’ve thought this through.”

“It’ll be fine. You’ll wear my clothes.”

“Sweet Lily! It’s adorable that you think my fat arse is going to fit in to something of yours!”

“Nonsense! You are nowhere near as big as you think you are! And I have the perfect blue dress for you. And the perfect short dress for me.”

“And what about shoes? You’re a size bigger than me!” 

“We’ll shove some tissue in the toes. Come on!”

…

“Cab’s here! Let’s go!”

“This is ridiculous! This dress is held together with safety pins and I nearly fell down the stairs.”

“You look great. Shit! I know the cabby. He’s mates with Arsehole. Play along… Hi Ray. Long time. How you been?”

“Ahhh, looking good Lily! Where you ladies off to? Booking says the bowling alley?”

“Well, that’s what I said on the phone because I can’t pronounce the name of the Italian restaurant next door. We’re on a double date.”

“Oh, very nice! Glad to hear you’re getting out there. Between you and me, I’m not a fan of your ex’s new missus. Skin and bone, she is. Nothing to hold on to. Not like you girls!”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Here we are, ten pounds twenty please, ladies. Have a good one.”

“Cheers. Keep the change.”

“Cheeky fucker! Are we really going to that restaurant? It looks expensive.”

“No! We’re going to the bowling alley. Cheap drinks and lonely men. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find someone to buy us cocktails all night!”

“Jesus! These fucking shoes are going to be the death of me. Seriously!”

“Shut up, you dopey tart! What you drinking?”

“Vodka, lemonade, and lime, if you’re buying.”

“Shots it is.”

…

“There’s a guy at the bar complaining the doormen at the club over the way wouldn’t let him in because he’s wearing jeans. He’s well pissed off! It’s hilarious. Reckons those are designer denim and cost more than the doorman makes in a month.”

“They look like jeans to me. Not even good ones. Are they stone or acid wash you think?”

“I know! Fucking minging! Still, he paid for this round, so give him a wink.”

“Doorman has a point, you know? There’s enough data collected to suggest there is a direct correlation between a person’s behaviour and the clothes they are presenting themselves in. That’s why some businesses, such as nightclubs, insist on no jeans or trainers, or… no shirt, no service. Dress like a twat, act like a twat.”

“Alright Einstein! We’re here to have fun, not get educated.”

“I thought we were here to pretend you were on a date.”

“No no no no! Fuuuuuuck!”

“What? Are you trying to hide under the table?”

“I know that guy…”

“What guy? Another friend of dickhead?”

“No! I met him through a dating site. We got chatting and agreed to meet, but I blew him out. Fuuuuuuck!”

“Why’d you blow him out? He’s looks alright to me.”

“Not that guy. The one in the red shirt.”

“Oh. Wow. Nice comb over! Why you start chatting with him in the first place?”

“I didn’t know it was that one! He’d messaged me at the same time as this other, quite fit guy. I thought I was chatting with him. Things got a bit saucy, and we were getting on well, so I agreed to meet. On my way I checked his profile again to make sure I’d recognise him and realised it was the wrong guy, so I didn’t show.”

“Ouch! Did you not contact him? Tell him one of your small lies?”

“No. I blocked him. I was too embarrassed. Things had become very… sexy in the chats. Stop laughing! We have to leave! Now!”

“But I haven’t finished my drink!”

“Down it! Let’s go!”

…

“I think those drinks have gone to my head, and I’m already unstable in your shoes. Can we go home yet?”

“No! It’s early. We have to stay out till at least midnight.”

“Come on, Lily! Where are we going to go with no money and ill fitted clothes?”

“Ahh, we’re in luck. I think I can get us in that club that fella was bitching about. Wait here.”

“What? Lily! … Fuck’s sake.”

…

“Right, come on. The doorman’s a dad at Harry’s school. I gave him a sob story so he’ll let us in for free.”

“Another small lie? What was it?”

“That we were on a double date but your guy was a vicious, arrogant arse and you need cheering up.”

“…Thanks?”

“What we drinking? Shots?”

“Lily, I don’t think we should drink anymore.”

“…”

“What? I can’t hear you, Lily. Jesus, it’s loud in here!”

“I said, the barman’s gay, but I think I can catch the eye of that fella in the corner. Hang on.”

“Lily? Are you living a secret life as a call girl or something? How do you know how to do this?”

“Watch and learn, my friend.”

…

“GET OFF THE TABLE!”

“Stop being such a party pooper! We never get to go out like we used to. Just enjoy yourself for once.”

“I am enjoying myself! I’m also knackered and broke, because I’m a lot older than I used to be when we would go out drinking all night. Plus, I think this guy wants to come home with us and I’m not into a threesome with some skaghead you picked up to get drinks! Lily! Come on. It’s time to go!”

“If you want to take that guy back to mine, it’s fine. Do you want the house key?”

“No! I want to go home with you!”

“Oh, Honey! I love you, but I don’t swing that way…haaaaaaa.”

“Come on! Get your bag.”

“Fine. Where is it?”

“What?”

“My bag. I left it with you.”

“No, you didn’t. You had it before you started dancing on the table. It must be here somewhere.”

“You check the floor, I’ll check the seating.”

“Ow, there’s glass everywhere! Great! Now my knees are bleeding! It’s not here Lily. Have you found it? … Lily? Lily!”

“Come on, love. Time to go.”

“Hey! Get your hands off me! You're hurting my arm! Where’s Lily?”

“She’s been escorted out, just like you.”

“But she’s lost her bag! It has to be here!”

“She can call in the morning and we’ll check lost and found. Come on, outside.”

“Honey!”

“Lily! What the hell?”

“We got kicked out of the club! Just like the good ol’ days!”

“Yeah, but did you find your bag?”

“Ha. No. They said I could pick it up tomorrow.”

“Great, how do we get home and into your house if your purse and keys are in the bag?”

“We’ll have to walk. That way…”

…

“That’s his new house.”

“Really? It’s big. How can he afford that?”

“Money laundering, probably. Filthy lying bastard. YOU’RE A FUCKING WANKER!”

“Okay, rein it in Lily.”

“He moved her in right away.”

“Well, it’s not like the relationship was new, is it? They’d been having an affair for two years before you found out.”

“I suppose it was inevitable they’d get together properly. No one else would have them.”

“They deserve each other, mate. You’re better off without him and his bullshit.”

“To think he tried to deny it! And then begged me to take him back when she choose her husband over him! What a spineless little shit he is. Then he acted like they were meant to be and had never doubted it when she came crawling back because her husband had enough of her.”

“Like I said, they deserve each other.”

“Wait here. I’m gonna throw a stone through his front window… Hold my shoes.”

“Lily! No! … For fuck’s sake! I’ll just sit here on the pavement then, shall I? … Ow… fuck!”

…

“Honey? You can’t sleep in the street, get up. … Hon? HONEY?!”

…

“Can you tell me what happened, Mrs Stevens?” 

“I don’t know. I wasn’t here. I saw a car come speeding down the road and I came running over… But she was just laying there. Is she going to be alright? Please? Tell me she’s going to be alright?”

“We’re taking her to A and E. The police will want your statement. What’s her name?”

“Honey. No wait, sorry. Her name is Beatrice Hive. I just call her Honey, because of… you know? Bea Hive?”

…

“Oh thank GOD you’re okay!”

“Okay? My leg’s broken, I’ve got cracked ribs, and I’m bruised everywhere. The Doctor said the only reason I’m alive is because I was too drunk to tense up!”

“Ha, alcohol saved the day!”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Painkillers are nice though, eh? What happened?”

“You’re shoes nearly killed me! I tried to take them off, slipped out of one, stumbled into the road, and got hit by a boy racer! What happened to you?”

“I bottled out of throwing a stone at his window, saw the car, came back, and found you unconscious. One of Bell-end’s neighbours heard me screaming and came out. They called the ambulance and the police. Then Bunda-boy came out to see what was going on and I had to go to the station to give a statement, annnd I got ripped apart by some twelve-year-old in a uniform for being drunk and disorderly! Annnnnd my bag got returned to me by the doorman-dad at Harry’s school, minus any cash I had left, probably that guy we met. Annnnnnd what’s worse, my scumbag ex thinks I was on a double date with you and the comb over guy and his mate, because I panicked when he asked why we were walking home, drunk in the middle of the night and I told him the date went badly and my guys name was Earl! He knows Earl! The comb over guy! Earl actually asked his permission to go on a date with me, the one I blew him out on? So now my ex thinks I’ve been dating comb over Earl for a three months! Can you fucking believe my luck?”

“Lily? I GOT RUN OVER!”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Why couldn’t you have told your ex I showed up unexpectedly and needed support so you cancelled the date you’d arranged but needed him to keep Harry over night? That way we could’ve stayed at yours, drunk whatever you had handy, and, you know, NOT GET YOUR MONEY STOLEN AND ME RUN OVER?” 

“…in retrospect, that would’ve been a better plan. Why didn’t you suggest it at the time?”

The End.