The official breakfast was to be a full English at the "Stretford End" bar near the beach. I can't believe that we would stoop so low as to go in a Man U bar but facts were facts. It was the nearest place and we were all hungover. The usual consisted of a 2 Eggs, 2 Bacon, Sausage, tomatoes, mushrooms and beans, washed down with a pint of Orange Juice and instant coffee.
In the afternoon it was time to get organised for the stag night. This entailed driving into the new town to buy Andy's bits and pieces. Bush and Paul Hewson went in search for the perfect items. Or should I say, Paul Hewson was determined to create his perfect woman. All items purchased were based on his personal specifications. Skirt, Wig, Fake plastic boobs the lot. "She's going to be my 10 to 6'er". This before a drink had been consumed. Worrying.
We went to meet Andy on the beach front at the Daytona Rock bar. Andy & Paul (Andy's brother) went to meet his dad and friend, who had driven up from Torrevieja for the night. The beach was a real eye opener compared to Burriana. The beach was half full but the bars were packed with Brits drinking. Magners seemed to be the drink of choice.
Bush & Paul H went to buy more items. It turned out that Paul H was buying shorts for the night. Apparently we all had to wear shorts with our specially designed T-shirts. Bush managed to haggle the shop assistant down to 60 Euros for a pair of surfer shorts. I managed to buy a pair for the princely sum of 6 Euros. Bargain.
Back at the pool for a bit of R&R before the big night. Andy had is make-up done by the reps. Rumours that they were using Andy's personal make-up were answered with a "No Comment". Finished, Andy went to see Paul H to be dressed. He wasn't seen again for at least an hour.
The transformation from Andy to Alexis was complete. Paul H took the role of Jealous boyfriend as he tirelessly beat off approaches from the other lads. Alexis was having none of it. Flirting with all the boys. Even letting them fondle her boobs. Paul H was not happy and the first of many tiffs broke out between the pair. Alexis positively flushed with all the compliments passed her way. My particular favourite was from Wrongberg, "She not bad from behind. If you ignore the hairy legs.". He's definitely a wrong 'un.
Wrongberg discovers Alexis's pair are plastic.
All the attention Alexis received seemed to detract attention from us with our new T-shirts. Nobody had any real problems with the "Andy Gonzo Meredith" caricature with the big nose (needed to be bigger) on the front. It was the back we had problems with. In particular the slogan "Benidorm Beaver Bashers". We had just joined the freaks of Benidorm. How would they take us?
17 lads and 1 lady hit the streets of downtown Benidorm in search of a restaurant that would take us. No where along the beach. The one place that would was too expensive. 18 Euros for a burger! Still, Lenny kopped for the round of drinks in that bar, outflanked again. We went in land for food. Nothing doing. The number of barbed comments from passing tourists had increased our paranoia levels over the T-shirts. We needed drink quickly.
It was every man (and woman) for himself. Just like in fools and horses during the day trip to Margate. We all went separate ways. Rawdo, Lenny and I upped the pace and found a Tony Roma's steak house. Lenny, outflanked again, had his back to the rest of the dinners. Me and Rawdo backs to the wall. The only real trauma was going to the toilet. "How many people are looking at me?" I asked as I stood up to make a break for it. "1,2,3 just run for it!".
After a good feed it was time to meet the rest of the lads back at Churchill's. Safely back in the group the beers started to flow. We were encouraged to ask Rachel, the girl behind the bar with the large breasts, to show us the ice cube trick. This entailed her putting an ice cube between her boobs and squeezing them together to propel the ice cube into a pint pot. Alexis tried but failed.
Clearly being encouraged by the large crowd around her (the actual fact that all the lads rushed into the bar was because a massive thunderstorm had just broken out) she went on to perform her Tequila Slammer shot special. This involved applying lemon and salt on her breasts, placing the shot between them, and placing the remainder of the lemon in her mouth. The person drinking the shot had to lick the salt, take the shot glass from her breast using his mouth only, down the shot and then retrieve the lemon from her mouth.
Alexis the slapper.
Off to the Star & Garter for a bit of Karaoke before Alexis and Paul H had another tiff. Baz decided a he would star in a duet with Alexis. He also put up Andy's dad and mate to perform "500 Miles" by the proclaimers. Dead ringers. To there credit, the Proclaimers battled away manfully before being helped out by a hen party of playboy bunnies (the most mature bunnies I have ever seen). Then it was time for the star turn. "Love lift us up where we belong" by Baz & Alexis. They managed to kill it in under 30 seconds. It soon descended into a soft porn movie. Kisses were exchanged and before you knew it Alexis was on her back with her legs wide open. Paul H was not amused. On the way out Alexis was engaged with girlie chat with the barmaid that ended up with them comparing breast size. Alexis won by a country mile.
Mine are bigger than yours love!
It was time for our daily dose of Shamrocks. Outside is freak land. Inside is surreal. The floor is wet through (by beer I hope), the place is full of freaks. There were even families inside desperately shielding there kids from the massed throngs jumping up and down going mental. And that was to Kylie Minogue. All hell broke lose when the live Irish band started playing the "Irish Rover". I ordered the beers and headed for the relative safety of outside.
Alexis & Baz at Shamrocks.
Outside, we traded war stories of our venture inside. Lenny told of the guy next to him in the bar that was looking rather pale. He then projectile vomited all over the bar in true "Little Britain" style. Craig, attempting to get served headed for the empty space recently vacated at the bar and proceeded to place is elbow in the middle of the sick. Bob had the pleasure of undoing the zipper for Buzz Lightyear. Meanwhile, Mick had a welsh audience as he went for a quick pee. "Go on then!" cried the Welshman with his head directly under the urinal looking up at Mick. "Let us see the cock!".
In search of sanity we headed for a cabaret bar near the square. Here, the occupants looked less freakish but things were about to turn. Alexis got into a cat fight with a fat bird. Obviously, fat bird was jealous of the attention Alexis was receiving and made a grab for her wig. She then proceeded in trying to provoke Alexis into a fight. "Drink up lads. Time to leave Freakshow 2". Off we headed for the Square.
Champions bar and time for the Rodeo. It seemed that all the lads wanted a go. Alexis mounted the Bull with Baz. It looked like the romance between her and Paul H was over. Paul H consoled himself by taking a ride with Mick. Rawdo and Bush looked to enjoy their ride a bit too much. It wouldn't be a holiday with Andy/Alexis if he didn't come up with some annoying phrase or impression. Lenny was the target this time due to his resemblance to Drago, the Russian boxer in the Rocky films. "You must first see the Bull, then Destroy the Bull", over and over again in a strange Hungarian/Mancunian accent. Lenny, to his credit, didn't end up chinning him.
Bush & Rawdo enjoying the ride.
Over to Cafe Benidorm to end the night. Everyone was enjoying dancing or just chilling outside. Dance rivalries between Craig and Paul H seemed to have been forgotten. Paul H still devastated by the breakup with Alexis presumably the reason. It was whilst I was outside that Andy's brother Paul was in the middle of a spot of bother. Apparently this lad had been constantly staring at him all night. Paranoia brought on by the T-shirts made him convinced he had got himself a gay stalker. He decided to make his feeling known by simulating oral sex with his lager bottle and calling the guy a "Cock Sucker". This didn't go down to well with the stalker. Over he came trying to take a pop at Paul. Luckily, enough of the lads were around and the guy ended up being kicked out by the doormen.
Paranoia had reached fever pitch. Some of the lads, Craig included (will he ever learn) had already headed home before the fracas. Apparently the guy screamed that we were all dead as he was slung out of the club. He promised vengeance and to come back with his mates. Me and Rawdo wanted to get some food and go home. "Best stay in here for a while" said Bush pointing out that we were all marked men as we were wearing the Gonzo T-shirts. Bloody Hell Bush! I had just managed to forget about wearing it.
Not to be deprived of food me & Rawdo decided to take our chances and head out. We were sat outside eating our chips and gravy when two lads approached us. "Where's your mate!" enquired one of them. The other one, sporting a white shirt and black bow tie dangling untied around his neck, more like Brook Bond than James, came to me in a apologetic manner. He was apologising for his mates actions in broken English, assuring me he was drunk and he didn't mean any trouble. I think Rawdo was politely telling the stalker that he had better be on his best behaviour or he would bounce him down the other end of the square. And then bounce him back up, make him pay for another chips and gravy before bouncing him back down again. Apology accepted, no chips spilt and off they went into the night. Another foreign diplomatic incident averted.
Back to the Apartments after another good night out. Time to wake Craig up. 6am, not too late then.
No comments:
Post a Comment