The Drought (The hilarious laugh-out loud comedy about dating disasters!)

by Steven Scaffardi

  “Hello,” I answered the phone. “Oh, hi mum,” and I raised my finger to my lips to shut the boys up.

  “Yes, that was me on the television,” I paused. “No, I’m not gay, mum.” The laughter now roared back into life. I shot them all a look, but the last thing on their mind was to take any notice of my feelings. In fact, Ollie had Jack bent over the sofa while Rob thrust his groin into Jack’s face.

  I stormed out of the living room and into my bedroom. “Look, mum, it was just a big mistake.”

  “Is that why you broke up with Stacey?” My mum asked. “Because you like boys now?”

  “No, I don’t like boys!”

  “I don’t mind sweetheart, I will always love you unconditionally. Your father might take a bit of getting used to the idea, but he’ll come round.”

  “Mum, you need to listen to me,” I said. “I am not gay.” I proceeded to explain what happened, and how I hadn’t realised what the sign said that I was holding. It took a while, but I finally convinced her.

  “This wouldn’t happen if you spoke to your old mum a bit more, and told me what was going on in your life once in a while,” she said as she explained away her fantastic mum logic.

  “I know mum, and I promise I will keep you in the loop more often from now on,” I lied just to get her off the phone.

  We said our goodbyes and I walked back into the living room. I fell back onto the sofa and sighed. I closed my eyes waiting for the onslaught but... nothing. I opened my left eye and scanned the living room. Jack and Rob were playing the football game, while Ollie had lit another cigarette. They said nothing. If anything, they were being suspiciously quiet.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. But they all just shrugged their shoulders and carried on what they were doing. “Seriously, what’s going on?” I asked again, this time with a little more authority in my voice. I had known this lot for too long. They would have never let this joke die as quickly as this. No way had they decided this gag didn’t have any more legs. I scanned all of their blank expressions. What were they hiding?

  Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted it.

  “No!” I shouted as I grabbed my mobile and saw the words Message Sent flash up on the screen. “What have you done?” The worst possible scenarios were running through my head.

  The laughing started up again. Then Jack answered through stifled laughter: “We just wanted to put the message out there that despite national news coverage, you are 100 per cent confident in your sexuality.”

  “What the hell have you done?” I anxiously started clicking through sent messages, and that’s when I saw it:

  I’m in a bad place right now, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m all man, and I have never stopped thinking about you. It’s always been you.

  “No, no, no, no,” I kept saying over and over again as my so-called friends cackled like a pack of hyenas. How could I have been so stupid? Leaving my phone with a bunch of booze-fuelled friends was the most basic of schoolboy errors. Then the replies started to come through.

  Tina Russell

  Who is this?

  Okay, damage limitation. I hadn’t seen Tina Russell since college. I was a little hurt she didn’t have my number anymore, but I could live with that.

  Callie McDowell

  Very funny Dan. Are you drunk? Xx

  Jenny Hoxley

  Hi Dan. Did you mean to send this to me?

  This was good. Maybe everyone would see this as a drunken joke or just a simple case of a text being sent to the wrong person.

  Craig Daws

  Saw you on the news earlier and just got your text. Don’t take it personally but I am deleting your number. I am not that type of bloke – don’t contact me again.

  Now I was getting nervous. Sending it to a bunch of girls in my phone was bad enough, but sending it to a guy? This was getting ridiculous.

  Stacey Cunningham

  You think you’re so funny don’t you? Let me tell you something now – you are not all man. Don’t ever text me again you moron.

  Unknown number

  You are a dead man. Dave.

  “What’s wrong with you lot?” I said, rubbing my brow. “Of all the people you could have sent it to, why the hell did you send this to her?” My only saving grace was that things couldn’t get any worse.

  Dick Mussel

  Is this your idea of a joke? I want to see you in my office first thing tomorrow morning.

  I was wrong. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” I was livid. “You sent it to my boss? This could cost me my job.”

  The laughing stopped. Everyone shifted awkwardly in their seats. “We’re sorry, mate,” Rob said realising my tone was deadly serious. “We didn’t think.”

  I was furious with them. I could take a joke, but this had gone way over the line. They all avoided eye contact with me, knowing full well they had gone too far with this one.

  My phone beeped with another reply.

  Grace Ellison

  Hi Dan, it’s Grace here. I accidentally deleted your text before reading it. What did it say? I’m glad you contacted me as I feel bad about running off and leaving you that night. How about I make it up to you? Why don’t you come round to my place one night and I’ll cook. Text back xx

  I stared at it in silence. This was unexpected. This was a total surprise. This was fucking brilliant! “Check this out,” I said to the guys, shoving the phone towards them. They looked nervous to read it at first, but then they all started smiling.

  “Get in there, my son,” Jack said.

  “But what about your boss?” Ollie asked.

  “What?” I asked, completely forgetting about the message from Dick. “Oh that. Nah, I’ll just tell him I lost my phone and some nut job has been texting people in my address book.”

  “Good work,” Rob congratulated me.

  It’s funny how the prospect of sex can make even the most dire of circumstances simply seem like a mere blip. I was starting to see much clearer now. I would simply text everyone back (apart from Stacey and Dave) and say it was a prank. In a matter of seconds my friends had gone from zeros to heroes. Without their utter stupidity I would not have a second shot at Grace.

  My phone beeped again.

  Kelly Campbell

  I can’t stop thinking about you too babe! What are you like? Let me guess, your friends got hold of your mobile? I can’t believe you fell for the oldest trick in the book! x

  Chapter 13: Amazing Grace

  Wednesday, April 8, 2009 - 5.12pm

  Drought Clock: 96 days, 19 hours, 15 minutes

  Rob got the low down from Katie. Grace had seen her ex kissing another girl and was on the rebound. “This could really work in your favour,” Rob said down the phone. “But you have to make sure you play the game correctly.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, sitting at my desk at work, shining an apple on my shirt before taking a bite.

  “All you have to do is come across as a better man than her ex. She is on the prowl to prove that she is still desirable. She wants to make sure in her own mind that she did the right thing leaving her ex in the first place,” Rob paused. “Are you taking notes?”

  “No, of course not.” I put down my pen.

  “You could get some very dirty sex here, you lucky bastard. I’m actually jealous of you for once,” Rob chuckled. “If you play your cards right, you can kiss goodbye to the drought tonight, Danny boy.”

  “That is not all I plan on kissing,” I said. Kelly looked up at me and shook her head. “I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I put the phone down and sat back. Tonight was the night. After 15 weeks without sex I was finally going to put that ball into the back of the net. I couldn’t miss. I didn’t even have to try and convince her to let me in for coffee at the end of the date. I was going to be in her house. I would probably be able to see the bed from the dinner table.

  “So, the big date is tonight,” Kelly said. “Are you ready?
”

  “As I’ll ever be,” I replied, trying to play it cool before realising this was Kelly I was talking to. “Actually, I’m a little nervous.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Kelly said to reassure me. “Just try to avoid making the ten o’clock news this time.”

  “Very funny.”

  “So what is she cooking for you?”

  “I’m not too sure. But I’ll be bringing dessert if you catch my drift,” I said with a wink.

  “And when was the last time you had any dessert,” Kelly said grinning. “If you catch my drift.”

  “Okay, point taken.” Note to self – no more dessert references when talking about sex. “Should I take anything with me?” I was thinking a couple of cans of Stella would do the trick.

  “A nice bottle of wine, although try not to drink too much this time.”

  “Bottle of wine. Check. Don’t get pissed. Check.”

  Everything finally seemed to be clicking into place for me. I had a second shot at Grace, I had managed to avoid any further contact with Stacey and Dave, and my mother had not called for at least 16 hours to ask if I was feeling lonely. Or if I was gay.

  “Hilles! My office!” Dick bellowed across the floor.

  Everything was clicking into place except for work. Ever since Dick had received that text he really had it in for me. Kelly watched as I got up and covered her mouth to stop her laughter.

  The morning after the text incident I immediately went to his office and explained how my friends had sent the text as a childish prank. I apologised profusely, admitting it was extremely unprofessional and that it would never happen again. I anticipated the anger, the shouting, and the potential disciplinary I faced from HR. I was ready for anything.

  Anything other than how he had actually reacted.

  “Sit down, close the door,” Dick said as I entered his office. “So how have you been?”

  “Er, fine,” I hesitated. “I’ve been fine.”

  “Good, good,” he said looking me up and down. “You look well.”

  I suddenly felt very dirty, but in my panic I blurted out the first thing that popped into my mind. “So do you.”

  “Thanks,” Dick said getting up from his chair and walking round to sit on the corner of his desk. “I’ve been working out. Can you tell?” He was stroking his bicep through the sleeve of his expensive designer suit, extending his arm back and forth. I didn’t know what to say so I just shrugged my shoulders and nodded.

  “Would you like to feel?” Dick asked holding out his flexed bicep for me to touch.

  “No, God no,” I held my hands up. “I mean, I can see the bulge from here.”

  There have been moments in my life where I had regretted my actions or the things I had said. Telling my boss I could see his bulge would rank right up there. Dick smiled and nodded his appreciation. Realising the horror of my blunder I tried to rephrase my sentence. “What I meant was...”

  “I have something for you,” Dick said, cutting me off. I sat completely still as he lent over his desk to pull something out of his draw, turning to face me as he did it. I didn’t know what to do. Maybe I could make a break for it, leap out of the window to make my escape. James Bond would do something cool like that. Then again, I couldn’t exactly remember the last time Bond had to escape from a potential homoerotic encounter.

  “Here you go,” Dick said handing me a rainbow coloured scarf. I looked at it for a second, puzzled. Dick bent down and whispered into my ear: “I know, I saw you on the news.”

  My mouth went very dry and I couldn’t breathe. All week his comments included innuendo, making me uncomfortable in his presence. Now I knew why. My gay boss had a crush on me. I needed to set this record straight. Literally.

  “Dick, I’m not...”

  “Shhhh,” Dick put his finger to my mouth. “Don’t say another word.” He had my lip pressed up against my left nostril. He somehow managed to guide me up from my chair and out of his office before finally removing his finger from my mouth, and slowly shutting his door, seductively waving me farewell by gently closing one finger at a time over his palm.

  I slowly turned around and felt as though everyone in the office was staring in my direction. Did they know what had just happened in there? Had they somehow heard? I glanced down at Shaila who was sitting at her desk, a blank look on her face. Had she seen? Did she know?

  “Dick was just showing me something,” I stuttered.

  “It’s none of my business, Don,” she replied.

  Realising how my sentence might have sounded I tried to correct myself. “What I meant was that he wanted to give me something.” She looked at the scarf and raised her eyebrows. I decided not to say anything else and cut my losses.

  “Why are you holding a gay pride scarf?” Kelly asked as I returned to my desk.

  I quickly stuffed the scarf into my jacket pocket. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said. I wasn’t too sure what had just happened. Okay, that’s a lie – I knew exactly what had just happened. I had just had my first gay experience. It wasn’t the best preparation for my date with Grace. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have anything against gay people – I have gay friends. Okay, I don’t have any gay friends, but I know gay people. Okay, I know Dick. And the guy that gave me the Gay & Proud sign, but he was more of an acquaintance.

  Get a grip, I told myself. Concentrate on tonight. I had more important things to deal with and I couldn’t let myself get distracted. This was just God’s way of testing me, to see how badly I wanted to end this drought.

  *

  I stepped out of Tooting Broadway tube station clutching a nice bottle of Pinot Grigio. I only say nice because it cost me a tenner; all wine tastes the same to me.

  I’d printed out a map from the internet to direct me to Grace’s flat on Henry Doulton Drive. My phone battery was nearly dead so quickly sent Grace a text to say I was on my way.

  “Hi, Dan,” Grace greeted me at her door 15 minutes later. I handed her the bottle of wine. “Oooh, this looks like a good one.”

  “You look fantastic,” I gave myself a mental pat on the back for remembering to compliment her. And she did look fantastic in dark jeans and a midriff-revealing top.

  “Come in,” she said. Her flat was very girly with lots of pink and white. There was a candlelit dining table in the middle of her living room, while Usher played in the background. And I could see the bedroom!

  “This is a really nice place,” I said. It was evident once the small talk was out of the way that if this night went any further we needed to talk about that night.

  “Look, I’m really sorry for how I behaved when we first went out,” I said as sincere as possible.

  “I should apologise,” Grace said. “I kept making you drink to get you to dance. It was my fault really.”

  “Why don’t we agree to draw a line under that night and start again?” I proposed.

  “Deal. I’ll drink to that.” Grace went into the kitchen to open the bottle of wine. “Dinner will be ready in about five minutes. I hope you like spaghetti bolognaise.”

  “Sounds great.” Okay, so far so good. I was even starting to feel quite calm and collected. Grace walked back over and handed me a glass of wine, and we made a toast to a fresh start.

  A fresh start. It was exactly what I needed. It was a poignant moment for me. There was a connection between us; I could feel it. It started at the bottom of my feet, and then started to wrap itself around my ankles. And purr?

  “Smokey!” Grace said picking up her pet cat. “I think he likes you.” I couldn’t help but wonder if Smokey had seen the news as well. I gave him a look as if to tell him not to get any funny ideas – I wasn’t into boys. Or cats.

  “Sit down and I’ll get dinner ready.”

  I did as I was told and took my place at the table. Grace brought over two plates of mince beef and spaghetti pasta with a delicious aroma from the home-made tomato sauce. “It smells great,” I said.

&
nbsp; We eased into conversation. Grace told me how she had nearly text me on a number of occasions but was worried I might not reply. She laughed so hard when I told her about my brush with the law as the gay rights campaigner that I thought she was going to fall off her chair. We finished dinner and the conversation moved over to the sofa. I knew I had to make a move so I kept looking for the signs –flirting, playing with her hair, touching my hand, laughing at all of my jokes – even the unfunny ones. Grace was doing it all, but I just froze. I was so close I could feel it.

  Over three months of sexual frustration built up inside me. This was my moment, I had to take it. I looked deep into her eyes, moved forward and...

  “Another glass of wine?” I found myself leaning forward to pick the bottle up. I could see the disappointment in her eyes.

  “Sure,” she said trying to hide her impatience and holding her glass out. I groaned inside. She was ready, and I missed my opportunity. My shot. My moment! What if I had blown it? This was getting beyond ridiculous. I started to overthink things. What if I got the signals wrong? What if I tried to kiss her and she just wanted to be friends? What if I couldn’t get it up? Oh why did I plant that seed of doubt into my mind?

  The single biggest fear men have is not being able to get it up. This is a bigger universal fear for mankind than nuclear war or al-Qaeda. The pressure can be immense. A girl has nothing to worry about – she has to just lay back and hope the guy lasts longer than 30 seconds. And there is the second biggest fear. Sex with a girl for the first time leaves the man feeling he needs to prove himself and perform like a porn star, capable of lasting hours.