Nigel and Chums

Iarrived back at the hotel and paused by the establishment which was immediately next door, wondering how I had previously missed its wine bar sign. I climbed its steps. Inside, leaning on the bar counter were four men and a woman. Nigel was fluent in English and spoke in rather an effeminate manner. I noted couples of men sat dotted around the room – I began to wonder.  Nigel introduced me to the lone female. ‘Please meet Miss Grace,’ he said. And they clinked glasses together. ‘Miss Grace, bottoms up,’ he said. Everyone laughed.

Nigel started to translate for some of the other men. A series of questions followed, all of which were intended to ascertain my persuasions and desires. So, was I staying next door? (Well, yes.) What was my room number? (Can’t tell you that.) We are all going to have a little party after at Nigel’s. Nothing too special. Would I like to come? Miss Grace will be there as well. (No. Can’t do that either.) A mobile phone number maybe. (Sorry. Don’t have one.)

Do you like men? No? Well why have you come to the wine bar? (Sorry. I’m only here for the beer). ……..But then they gave up, changed the subject, and started telling me how Princess Diana had been murdered by the British Establishment, in order to prevent the injection of Egyptian blood into the royal family tree.

I thought back to 1994 and my four day stay in Fez, Morocco; of being propositioned by men on four consecutive nights; and most of all, when I told this to buxom Donna, the landlord’s wife down my local village pub, of her loud retort. ‘You may well have been propositioned four nights running Damian, but what you are leaving out of your tale is that you still went back to the same place each night. It was four consecutive propositions in the same bar!

And so nearly a decade later with her quip still ringing in my ear, I made sure I didn’t make a second visit to the tavern next door.