Free The Drought (The hilarious laugh-out loud comedy about dating disasters!) by Steven Scaffardi

seats it was pretty clear Rob was
not going to let this go so easily. “Don’t worry about what just
happened. You’re just out of practice; it’s ring rust that’s all.
After being stuck with the same girl for three-years you have
simply forgotten how to chat-up girls. It’ll all come flooding
back, trust me,” Rob told me confidently before smiling at a
strawberry blonde opposite us, and then engaging her in
conversation like it was the easiest thing in the world.
    Maybe Rob was right. Before
Stacey I’d had a decent track record with the ladies. Clearly not a
track record like Rob; he just needed to look in the direction of a
female and she seemed to drop her knickers for him. I just needed
to get back into the saddle – it’s like riding a bike as they
say.
    God, I really missed
riding.
    Ollie and Jack were already
waiting outside when we got to Clapham Common. Jack was on his
mobile phone. “I told you I was out Saturday night, darling,” he
said down the phone in his over exaggerated cockney accent. “It’s
going to be a messy one – I’ve brought the big guns out tonight.”
Jack spotted us and winked in our direction.
    “ Who is he on
the phone to,” I asked Ollie.
    “ Anna,” Ollie
responded.
    “ No idea what
time I’ll be back, sweetheart.” Jack looked back over to us and
used his hand to simulate a mouth chatting by bringing his fingers
and thumb together repeatedly. “Okay, don’t wait up.”
    He clicked the phone off.
“Hello boys, ready for some carnage tonight?” Jack shook our hands
and embraced us.
    We headed into Murphy’s Bar
opposite the station, and Rob got the first round in. He left two
pound coins in the silver tip tray left behind by the barmaid. She
smiled and thanked him as she took the tray away.
    “ Why the hell
did you do that?” Jack questioned.
    “ Because when
the bar gets busier later on, I won’t have any problems getting
served,” Rob offered as an explanation. “That two pounds just
bought me quick and efficient service for the rest of the night,”
he winked at the barmaid who smiled back. “And probably a blowsie
from her at the end of the night.”
    “ It just
bought you one less beer is what it bought you,” Jack replied,
rolling his eyes.
    We took our place at a table
towards the back of the bar. It was our usual spot; just far away
enough from the speakers for us to still hear each other over the
loud dance music.
    “ So what
happened to Kirsty from New Year?” I asked Rob.
    “ She was nice
enough Danny, but nice isn’t always what you want, if you know what
I mean?” Rob said.
    “ She wouldn’t
let you slap her on the face with your cock huh?” was Jack’s
delightful input to the conversation, and improvised the movement
just to drive his point home.
    “ I love dirty
women,” Ollie said.
    “ What the hell
are you talking about? You only do the missionary position,” Jack
said before mimicking Ollie’s voice: “If missionary was good enough
for my old man, and his father before him, then it’s good enough
for me.”
    Rob and I laughed as Ollie
tried to argue back. “Shut up, I do other positions,” he said.
    “ Like what?”
Jack taunted him.
    Ollie took a long pause and a
sip of his pint, presumably to try and recall his extensive
knowledge of the karma sutra before replying.
    “ Up the
arse.”
    “ Nice,” I
commented, raising my eyebrows.
    “ Yeah, I get
her in the position to do her doggy style, and then I just slip it
in,” Ollie said explaining the art to his technique.
    “ Doesn’t the
girl notice?” Rob asked him.
    “ Yeah, but I
pretend I haven’t realised and tell her I’ll be finished in a
minute anyway.”
    “ Touché,” Jack
raised his beer to Ollie.
    “ And who said
romance was dead?” Rob said shaking his head. “Maybe I’ll have to
try that one myself sometime.” We all laughed.
    Suddenly all of our eyes locked
on a stunning blonde who entered the bar with a group of friends.
She was wearing