Surviving Michael by Joseph Birchall Page B

a bird before, and I just wanted to make sure that all me bits and pieces worked. And I wanted to see what it’d feel like.
    I went up to her and she let me in. I wouldn’t say she looked too enthusiastic about ridin’ me, which kind of put me off a bit. Anyway, I said to her how much? Fifty euro she said and put her hand out. I gave her the money and she lay me down on the bed in the tiny room behind the window where she’d been standin’. She took off me cacks and then me jocks and looked at it. Her lack of enthusiasm was puttin’ me off but she grabbed me mickey anyway and started pullin’ at it. She was reefin’ at it but it wasn’t doin’ anythin’ for me, and to be honest it sort of hurt a bit, so I asked her to take her bra off.
    She told me she wanted another twenty euro. For fuck sake, I mumbled to meself. ‘Okay,’ I said, and she put out her hand. Fuckin’ hell, she wanted the twenty spot there and then, so I had to get back up off the bed and look for where she threw me cacks and then took out another twenty from me wallet.
    She took off her top, and I did get a bit excited when I saw real tits close up. I wanted to grab them, but I knew she’d ask me for another twenty spot. Eventually I closed me eyes and lay back, but there wasn’t a whole lot happenin’ down there so I started to think about this Polish bird that worked in the Centra beside me. She was an absolute ride and thinkin’ of her never failed to get me goin’.
    When I was harder she put her mouth around me cock, but it felt more like a vacuum pipe than an actual bird’s mouth. I looked at her for a while, but it was more out of curiosity than a turn on.
    After about a minute she pulled an opened condom out of God knows where and pushed it down hard over me mickey, then got up on top of me. I closed me eyes again and thought about the bird in Centra, but it just wasn’t happenin’. I could feel meself gettin’ softer so I said to her, ‘sorry, it must be the drink’ and she got off me.
    I said sorry to her again, and she left the room, and I dressed meself in the red lights. When I got outside, the lads gave me a bit of a slaggin’ about it bein’ very quick. But I didn’t mind the slaggin’. At least they stopped calling me a virgin after that night. That at least was worth the seventy euro.
    We drive for a while but nobody’s talkin’. Danny just keeps lookin’ ahead and doesn’t look at any of us. I think he’s cryin’. The big sap. So what if she left yeh, move on like. She’s not the only bleedin’ bird in the world. I’m about to tell him this, but we pull into the car park in Temple Bar. Fuckin’ place is jam packed. Full of poxy tourists.
    ‘Where to first?’ I ask when we’re out of the car.
    ‘There,’ Nick says, pointing to a hole in the wall. ‘And don’t be shy, big man. Take out a few hundred.’
    ‘Wha’?’ I says.
    ‘Who’d you think was going to pay for your stuff?’
    ‘For fuck sake,’ I say.
    ‘The appointment’s at three in the hairdressers,’ Charlie says, ‘so that gives us an hour or so to get him some proper gear to wear.’
    ‘Why don’t you go with him, Charlie,’ Nick says, ‘and then we’ll meet up later.’
    ‘I’m not spending the whole bleedin’ afternoon with him on me own.’
    Nick nods towards Danny, who has his back to us all and is starin’ at a wall.
    ‘Fuck sake,’ Charlie says. ‘Come on then, let’s go. Just keep your bleedin’ mouth shut, right?’
    ‘You’re not the boss of me,’ I tell him.
    ‘I fucking mean it, ye bollocks.’
Nick
    DANNY AND I walk into the nearest pub, sit at the bar, and I order two pints. The place is stained with the usual Saturday afternoon’s inner city primates. An elderly man with foggy eyes looks straight ahead, captivated by nothing captivating. He sits at a table near the toilets, sipping on his Guinness, and bordering on a cliché. His right arm dutifully raises and lowers his pint like the pendulum of a