Trust me, will ya!

“Listen, we’ll just have one pint and then we can all go home. The hair of the dog.”

I can still see him, as he said it. Straight faced, like he meant it.

The last of the gang was getting married. Finally! He had settled on a ‘Sensible girl’. A school teacher. Funny I always knew the thing with the pole dancer would never last. Too expensive, tucking note after note into the elastic of her bloomers.

There were five or six of us on the stag night. Well we started with five. One of the guys went missing in action. Men! But I am not here to bore you with the details. It was the next morning, a Sunday morning – God forgive me, that I learned a thing or two.

I woke up in bed with the Groom. Nothing happened, I think, I hope. We were staying in a rented holiday house by a beach somewhere. I was first up and got to the toilet before the rest. I don’t know how the fifth lad survived his visit, but he did. Talk about chemical warfare!

The road to Hell is paved with good intentions, my mother used to say. We each had the best of intentions to return home to our wives and fiancées, even John, the best man. But all it took was one little suggestion (from John) that it would be in our best interests to go to the nearest pub for “the cure”,  as he referred to it.

The other three were in agreement instantly! They had plenty of experience with morning after remedies. Me? I wasn’t so enthusiastic. All I wanted to do was get home and go back to bed. I had to work the following day, and driving isn’t one of those jobs that mix well with a heavy night.

“Trust me, Frankie. You will feel better after one last drink,” said John.

He was right! In fact six rounds later we were all new men. Completely recovered and in high spirits. I phoned my lovely wife who was very understanding, from what I remember. I also rang one of my co-workers to ask if he could cover Monday for me.

He covered for me and the rest is history. It was probably one of the best days I ever spent with my friends. Unplanned, y’know.

And the things I learned in the pub that day!

Did you know that God invented Whiskey to stop the Irish from taking over the world? And did you also know that the Jelly Baby broke out in a rash (down below) because he had been sleeping with All-sorts?

The big day came a few weeks later. It turned out to be the best wedding ever!  Surprise surprise. I am blessed with good friends.

Boys will be boys.


Thank you for reading


11 thoughts on “Trust me, will ya!

  1. Great story — isn’t there a pub somewhere in Ireland that has written over the door something like, “Be careful of our cider. Everyone who’s drunk it has died” or something like that. 🙂

  2. Frankie, I like your story. You know what would be good to hear is how the wedding after all that was awesome. Was it because of the connection and conversation between you guys that came about or something? In your writerly hands this would be intriguing and shed light on the magic that occurs during these moments.

    • Cheers Andrew. I try to keep these daily scribbles fairly short. They are usually in response to the Daily Prompts.
      I suppose I could try to kill two birds with today’s prompt and the Weekly Challenge. I’ll see what happens.
      Thank you.

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