Sunday, April 2, 2017

B is for Brighton Cock

To fully appreciate this post it is best to read my A is for Anno Domini post. (Scroll down.)

Julie knew, before she had been in Brighton three hours, that he meant to corrupt her. With his smooth fingers, and manicured nails, his manner charming and sophisticated, anyone could tell he didn't belong -  belong to the early summer sun, the cool Whitsun wind off the sea, the normal crowd of dental hygienists who worked in Sunny Smiles Dental Practice. They came in by the front door every five minutes, swaying down Queen's Road after closing, teetering on their high heels. But he was different - for a start he was a man in a female-dominated role and, secondly, for a man of his obvious attractions, he'd slipped discreetly through the side door whereas other handsome men of his demeanor might come through the main entrance reveling in the attention of female admirers. Julie's pulse began to race a little as he took a seat not far from where she'd been sipping a vodka observing her co-workers with their fake teeth and false smiles.

The soundtrack to the local six o'clock news played on the large screen television in the corner of the bar, distracting Julie from the uncomfortable feeling that the male hygienist aroused in her. She swivelled her stool around to watch the news, ruing the fact that her secondment to Sunny Smiles was a total disaster. It was obvious from the gleeful glances of the other hygienists that they were still bitching about the fact she had tripped over in her new heels and inadvertently injured the left ear of a local celebrity with a dentists drill. Julie watched the television for a moment and then swivelled back to face the bar, draining the last of her vodka and sucking an enormous ice cube into her mouth.

"Wive me a wubble," said Julie despondnetly, her cheeks puffed out like a hamster.

"Pardon?"

"A Wubble!"

"Oh you mean "A double,"" grinned the barman.

"I've wad a shwit way," said Julie regretting sucking up the ice cube but not wanting to spit it out in front of the barman and the male hygienist who, worryingly, was now perched even closer.

"A shit day?"

"Wes...shwit, shwit, shwit!"

"That bad eh?"

Julie nodded and attempted to ignore the hygienist as the barman prepared her drink with two generous shots of vodka. However, ignoring her co-worker was very difficult when his smooth tanned skin, chocolate eyes and raven hair were attracting the attention of all the nearby women. Normally, Julie would be flattered by the attention of a man who could have his pick of any women in a bar but she sensed his interested in her was not romantic but something else - but she didn't quite know what and somehow she wasn't sure if she wanted to find out.

"You'll be out of a job tomorrow."

Julie's heart began to beat a little faster as the hygentist pushed a copy of the local paper in front of her.

"Fuck!" cried Julie, spurting her ice cube out all over the headline news which read Hygienist From Hell.

"I reckon it's an inside job," replied her co-worker with a rueful smile.

Julie took a swig of her replacementtt vodka and read the opening paragraph.

Julie Watson, 24, a hygienist on secondment to Sunny Smiles, the largest Dental Practice in Sussex, caused a drama at the Brighton branch today when she fell and injured the ear of local TV presenter Matt Coleridge, 54. According to an eye witness, Mr Coleridge left the practice with a bloody ear, his teeth uncapped and declaring he would sue the practice "for every fucking penny".

"Oh God, I don't want to lose my job," wailed Julie, forgetting her earlier apprehension. "All my life I wanted to be a dental hygienist. I wouldn't know what else to do!"

"You're either mad or drunk," said the male hygienist. "Nobody plans to be a dental hygenist."

Julie took another gulp of her vodka.

"She's drunk," said the barman. "That's her fourth double."

"I'm not shrunk!"

"You are," said the hygenist and the barman in unison.

Julie looked from the barman to the hygenist and back again.

"Did I just say I was shrunk?"

"Yes," they replied.

"Oh God I am shrunk. I'm shrunk AND wobless."

"She means "jobless"" said the barman, grinning again before sauntering off to serve a customer at the other end of the bar.

"You don't have to be jobless," said the hygienist. "You have a great body. There's lots of other things you can do."

"But I've always wanted to wook after weople's weeth," blubbed Julie.

"You're never going to work on teeth again, Julie. But I know something you could do," said the hygenist with a sly grin.

"Wot?" said Julie, tears running down her cheeks.

"The same as me."

"But wor a wental wygenist!" wailed Julie.

"But that's not all I am."

"Wot do you mean?" said Julie pulling a face of drunken confusion.

The hygenist smoothed Julie's hair back over her ear and leant in close to her.

"I'm also a porn star," he whispered. "And my stage name is The Brighton Cock."

********

To be continued at a later date.

With thanks to Graham Greene (who is probably turning in his grave right now!)


2 comments:

  1. OMG! Hilarious!! Can't wait to hear more!

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    Replies
    1. Delighted you enjoyed it Paula! I'm not sure where its going yet - but then discovering the journey is half the fun of writing it!

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