I barrelled into a pub toilet and stepped into the only available space at the long communal urinal.
A friend’s boyfriend was stood on my immediate right, so I greeted him with a friendly, “Hello… No peeking!”
He is Chinese and, although his English is good, it isn’t perfect, so I’m not sure if he realised that I was joking and responded with a shocked, “I not going to peek!”
I glanced to my left and noticed that the lad stood there was cute, so leaned over and cheekily whispered, “You can peek if you want.”
The lad let out an exasperated, but good-humoured sigh, “Now I’m not going to be able to go!” We men are delicate bunch and can be put off our stride so easily.
“Come on,” I teased. “You can do it.”
“Nothing’s going to happen with you stood there.”
“There’s a queue forming.”
“Now I’m under pressure.”
“Let’s see who manages to go first,” I suggested.
He rolled his eyes, “Great, now it’s a competition!” I started to pee and my amber stream rattled noisily off the metal trough. “A competition that I’ve just lost,” he added.
He still hadn’t managed to go even as I finished and left.
A short while later, I spotted the lad emerge from the Gent’s toilet and we gave each other mischievous grins. I weaved my way across the busy pub to introduce myself properly, shook the lad’s (hopefully washed) hand and told him my name.
He responded, “I suck.”
Slightly taken aback by his unexpected candour, I countered, “Well, that’s good to know, but more information than I was expecting.”
He looked puzzled and replied, “It’s only my name.”
“Your name is ‘I Suck’?!!!”
I could tell from his accent that he was Welsh, but this was one regional name that I was not familiar with.
“NOOOOO!!!” He cried, indignantly, “Not ‘I Suck’! My name is Issac.”
That made far more sense, but I must confess to feeling a tad disappointed.
I got to steal a kiss on the cheek though.