Wish You Were Here by Mike Gayle

can,’ said Andy. ‘The only reason I’m not standing in that first bar drinking the second of my two-for-the-price-of-one beers is because of you guys. Alone, I’d have folded like a pack of—’ Andy stopped and pointed across to the other side of the road. We were here. We’d finally reached our destination: Pandemonium. Yet another neon-lit bar that, while not exactly empty, wasn’t all that full either. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that I was convinced that it would be here where my luck would finally begin to change. Here I would rid myself of the spectre of my ex-girlfriend. Here I would meet the girl-in-the-cowboy-hat.
    â€˜Are you ready, Charlie?’ asked Andy.
    I looked at my watch. It was five minutes to midnight. ‘I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,’ I replied and then, taking a deep breath, I looked both ways and crossed the road to meet my date with destiny.

    Budweiser, okay?
    Even from my short experience of the strip so far I knew that most bars in Malia relied heavily on loud pounding club music to provide ambience. The difference with Pandemonium was that the music was turned up just that little bit louder, as though the extra volume might make it stand out from the crowd. It was only when we reached the bar and were pointed by a barman in the direction of some banquette seating that we discovered that Pandemonium had one further trick up its sleeve: waitresses in bunny-girl outfits.
    â€˜Now this is what I call a holiday,’ bellowed Andy as a waitress resplendent in pink fluffy ears, hot pants, fishnet stockings and heels passed by our table carrying a tray of tequila shots. ‘What do you think to that, church boy?’ Tom didn’t reply. ‘The girls in the bunny outfits,’ said Andy this time nudging Tom with his elbow. ‘Fit or what?’
    â€˜Hmm,’ said Tom in a noncommittal fashion. He turned his head slightly and gave the waitress a cursory once-over, shook his head and then looked away as if to ponder some higher vision. It was only when Andy and I followed his line of sight that we realised that the higher vision Tom was pondering was the highlights of the England test match playing on a miniature TV screen above the bar.
    â€˜I like sport as much as the next man, but how can you be watching cricket when there are women like this . . .’ said Andy indicating yet another waitress slinking by our table, ‘less than three feet in front of you?’
    â€˜Leaving aside that I’m happily married with two kids,’ said Tom, ‘. . . fact is we’re doing really well.’
    One of the bunny waitresses approached our table. ‘All right, lads?’ she asked in a pronounced Liverpool accent as she leaned in towards us in an effort to be heard over the music. ‘What can I get you boys tonight?’
    â€˜Anything you like, darling,’ leered Andy.
    â€˜Three beers will do,’ I replied quickly, giving her an excuse to ignore Andy.
    â€˜Budweiser do you?’ she asked smiling in my direction.
    â€˜Yeah,’ I replied giving her the thumbs-up. ‘That’ll do nicely.’
    She turned and headed in the direction of the bar to deliver her order.
    â€˜Why don’t girls at home look like that?’ wondered Andy as he turned his head to get a better view of the waitress’s legs.
    â€˜Because all the girls at home who do look like that are here,’ I replied. ‘I’m guessing they come for a holiday and stay because they can’t stand the thought of going back to another grey summer in England.’
    â€˜But do you think it’s in the rules that you have to be a babe in order to be allowed to stay? Pretty much every girl who has spoken to us since we got here has been amazing.’
    â€˜Don’t know,’ I shrugged, ‘but I don’t suppose it can hurt can it?’
    We both fell silent as we