A most unlikely little tale for pure amusement, so please don't complain if you find it unrealistic.
Hardly any sex and probably not very erotic, and though the story is a complete fabrication, our 'hero' does have something in common with me. I'll tell you at the end.
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"Mike!"
I stopped in my tracks and looked back to the door I had just passed, as some guy, mid thirties, about the same age as me, leant out.
"Mike," he repeated. "It is you isn't it Mike? Mike Davis?"
I stared at the guy for a moment or two, till recognition dawned.
Don," I replied in surprise. "Don Price! What the hell are you doing here?"
"I'm here for a couple of meetings Mike," he responded, grinning back at me. "I didn't know you worked here. Surprised you even got a job with all the beer you used to sink."
"No surprise there Don," I laughed along with him. "We haven't seen one another since we left university and that must have been twelve years ago or more."
"Thirteen," he confirmed. "I left the year before you."
With those silly grins on our faces that men put on when they meet old friends, we stepped towards one another and shook hands heartily.
"Look Don, I'm a bit tied up at the moment," I told him. "Got some meetings and things myself. Are you free for lunch? Maybe we could get together and talk about old times."
"Great," Don shot back at me. "Twelve thirtyish OK?"
"Fine with me," I confirmed happily, looking forward to chewing the cud with an old rugby and drinking partner. "Meet me in the lobby and we'll go out for a pie and a pint."
With that we gave each other the obligatory friendly punch on the shoulder, and he disappeared back into old man Parkinson, our head buyer's office, and I went on my way, wondering what product he was trying to sell our company, and why his name hadn't cropped up.
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Twelve thirty came and I found myself tied up with a group of other managers that I really didn't want to have to break up. I excused myself for a few moments and made my way down to the lobby where I soon spotted Don stood there waiting for me.
"Hey Don," I greeted him. "Sorry man, but I'm really tied up. Any chance we could meet up after work for a pint if you're not in too much of a hurry to get away?"
"No problem Mike. I'm staying over night anyway at the hotel opposite. I've got some specifications to sort out with some guy in your engineering department tomorrow morning."
"That'd be Tom King," I responded automatically. "He's a good engineer."
"Friend of yours?"
"Sort of," I admitted.
"Put a good word in for me perhaps Mike?" Don asked confidently. "This order is very important to us."
"I'll see what I can do Don," I promised him, remembering that Don was never one to miss out on an opportunity.
"I'll buy you dinner tonight if you want." Don offered a bit too quickly, making me wonder whether that was through old friendship or to get me on his side.
"I'll do better than that Don," I replied, not wanting to be too beholding to one of our potential suppliers. "Why don't you come round our place and I'll get Beth to make us both dinner?"
"Beth?" Don queried. "That your wife then?"
"We're engaged," I corrected him with a smile. "But we might as well be married as we've been living together for two years now."
"Pretty?" he asked with a cheeky grin.
"See for yourself tonight Don," I grinned back at him, knowing full well that he wouldn't be disappointed.
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I rang Beth to warn her that an old friend would be coming round, and that was when my problems started.
"Damn you Mike," she castigated me angrily. "You know I wanted you to take me to the theatre tonight."
"Sorry Beth," I responded. "I forgot."
I had!
No, really, I had.
Trouble was that I really didn't want to go anyway, and Beth knew that. We went through several rounds of accusations and apologies and I came out the loser. It was going to cost me --- Oh boy was it going to cost me, but at last Beth agreed to put off the visit to the theatre and cook dinner for us. I even offered to take the three of us out to a restaurant, but she refused, saying she didn't want to be trapped the whole night with someone she didn't know, while we talked about our past drunken exploits all the time.
"At least I can go off to bed if and when I get bored," She ended her diatribe with.
"You won't get bored," I tried to assure her. "Don's a nice guy."
"Good looking?" Beth queried absently.
"Yes I suppose so," I replied, happy that she was at least taking an interest.
"Maybe I'll take him off to bed with me then," she joked.
"Don't even think about it," I laughed back at her. "We'll see you later."
Seemed amusing at the time.
Odd that!
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The evening organised, I checked up with Parkinson and Tom to check exactly what my old friend Don was trying to sell us. I didn't say too much, wanting to make sure of a few things before I committed myself to giving his product a little push in the right direction. Turned out that he actually owned the company, and they were vying to be a preferred supplier for a range of engineering parts that we used. Turned out in fact, that this order would be very important to them, so perhaps I could influence it in his favour. It would feel good to be able to help an old chum.
The afternoon passed quickly enough and by ten past six, Don was following my car as I wound my way through the narrow streets of our town towards the apartment that I shared with Beth.
"Bloody hell Mike," Don commented as we pulled up into the private parking that went with our home. "This is a bit swish."
"Not mine," I informed him. "I only rent it."
"Even so," he gushed as he looked around the stylish modern entry lobby; "Must cost a few bob. This Davis guy who's the boss here ---Not your dad or anything is he?"
"Hardly Don," I chuckled back. "My dad worked in the shipyards. The nearest I've got to a rich relation is my Auntie Martha who owns a shoe shop in Leicester. I grinned inwardly, deciding not to tell him that I was fortunate enough to have my company supply me with such a pad for a very modest rent, and knowing that when he saw the interior, that he would be equally impressed with that.
He was!
But perhaps not quite so impressed as he was when Beth came out of the kitchen to greet us.
"Crikey Mike," Don uttered in surprise. "How come an ugly old bugger like you bagged a beautiful girl like this?"
I laughed, knowing that I wasn't at all ugly by most standards, and enjoying the look of embarrassed pleasure that his remark bought to Beth's face.
Beth was medium height, on the slim side with long dark hair and a remarkably pretty face. At twenty-seven, Beth had been an actress since leaving school, though had always seemed to be on the edge of breaking through. Like so many others in her chosen profession, she had spent more time 'resting' than actually working. She'd done a bit of film work and a few parts in west end plays, but mainly, to her chagrin, she'd done TV adverts. It paid alright, though once or twice I had been a bit shocked at how little she had on, when she'd done lingerie adverts. She always did look good though.
But beautiful she was by any standards, and though she was well used to being told so, Don's words, I could see, had already warmed her to him. Perhaps the evening would go well after all.
We chatted and exchanged old memories of our time together, Beth joining in as all three of us laughed as we recalled some of the antics we'd got up to as students. Eventually Beth served up dinner and we sat down in out lounge together afterwards, us two men with a fine Cognac each, and Beth with the last of the 2006 Sancerre.
Beth was obviously pretty taken with Don, who I remembered as a bit of a womaniser in his younger days. Not that I hadn't been as well, but I grinned when I recalled the advantage that he'd always had over the rest of us.
"Funny being called Don again after all these years," he remarked when there was a lull in the conversation.
"What's your real name then?" demanded Beth.
"Mark," I answered for him, not too sure if I wanted to go down this avenue. "But we all called him Don."
"Why's that then?" Beth came back.
"We just did," I replied. "It was just a nickname."
"But why Don?" Beth continued to press.
"We just did," I got in before Don could answer.
"But why?" Beth demanded yet again, the booze making her a bit giggly. "Why Don if his name is Mark?"
"They called me Donk for the first few months and then that got shortened to Don," he explained rather unhelpfully.
"Donk?" Beth squealed mirthfully, spilling her drink a little. "What sort of name is Donk?"
"Anyone want another drink?" I tried to divert the conversation, but Beth was having none of it.
"Come on you two," she insisted. "Where did the name Donk come from?"
"It was just a nickname," I repeated.
"It came from Donkey," Don over-ruled me, smirking like an idiot, and knowing where this was going.
"Donkey? ---- Donkey?" My Beth called out with a peel of laughter. "Where on earth did Donkey come from?"
"Shall I tell her Mike?" Don asked me with a smirk, knowing full well that he was going to anyway.
I simply gave a shrug, aware that there was no way out of it. Hoping that maybe it wouldn't be too bad.
"Donkey dick," Don told her, grinning from ear to ear. "It comes from Donkey dick."
"Donkey dick?" Beth queried, a bit slow on the uptake. "Why donkey dick? I don't understand."
"That's the nickname they all first gave me when they saw me in the showers in our first week at Uni."
"But I still don't ....." Beth started, then stopped and blushed deeply as she realised where the name had come from. "You mean that you're ..... Well, that you've got ......Well, you know."
