Free The Numbers Game by Frances Vidakovic Page B

supporters back in England would be rushing to celebrate after the
winning of a game. It was dark and seedy, with a thick mist of smoke
intermittently being cut by a spinning fan.
                “Mmm, I
can’t wait to see what they have in store for us here,” Markie said, as they
pushed their way through saloon doors. For some reason, he did not think the
sort of woman he was after resided here.
                “That’s
where you’re wrong,” Rick replied. “Going out mid-week and to places like this
are exactly what your social calendar should be filled with.”
                “You have
two minutes to explain,” Markie said, taking in the surroundings: the velour
couches in purple and orange; the cheesy bartenders with missing teeth and
cigarettes tucked behind their ears, the men with big beer bellies. In less
than five seconds, he saw all he needed to see and had little reason to stay.
                “It’s like
this,” Rick said, “you have girls that save their play for Saturdays night and
you have those who train hard every night. Which of the two is more likely to
jump your gun?”
                Such was
Rick’s rationale.
                “I’m not
sure. Could it be the same one but only uglier?”
                Like that
chubby thing balancing her butt on the bar stool for example, I’m sure she’d go
for it, or the giraffe with a gorilla head smoking by the poker machines.
Markie glanced around and saw a half dozen of these mutations spread across the
room.
                “You mean
to say you wouldn’t give them a go if they wanted to?”
                Markie
nearly fainted. Was Rick for real? He couldn’t possibly be speaking about these
aliens...He couldn’t be.
                “Hell no!
I wouldn’t sleep with just anything.”
                “Really?”
Now it was Rick’s turn to be surprised. In the world according to Rick, it
didn’t matter what shape or form the female came in as long as it wasn’t
diseased or attached. “You’d say no a freebie?”
                “I
wouldn’t exactly call it a freebie.”
                To Markie,
nothing came for free. Even when you thought you were getting a great deal, you
ended up paying for it in other ways: whether it was in favors, obligations,
guilt or as was in the latter case, nightmares and regret. Markie had his
standards and they weren’t something he was willing to stoop below.
                “I think
I’ll stick to the good-looking ones mate,” he said, with a slap to his friend’s
back.
                But you
never know, give him five hours in this murky place, a caseload of beer and
maybe, just maybe Markie might score a complementary pair of beer goggles. No
he doubted it; even if he was delirious, no amount of drugs and intoxication
could make his manhood go up with a freak.
                Markie
took a seat at the bar and ordered two beers.
                “Friend, I
hate to tell you but I don’t think either of us are gonna get lucky here
tonight.”
                “Speak for
yourself,” Rick huffed. He looked around the half-empty pub to see whether
there was any talent he had previously disregarded. Then he looked at his watch
again; ten o’clock he was probably thinking, still enough time for an
absolutely horny stunner to walk in through that door. But to save you the sad
story, she never did come.
                When it
came time to pack up their stuff, Markie asked himself: since when had they,
owners of a prestigious advertising agency, become such bloodthirsty
desperados? Something had to change and quickly at that.
     
     

Chapter
7
     
     
    The first thing Serena
decided when she got home from work was that the spying would have to end.
                No more
behaving like a celebrity stalker, sleeping in cars, hunting