I was staying in a hotel for a week while I was doing my "Next Step" training for my job. After, I'd be getting put forward for cushy supervisor roles, and go from one pound over minimum wage to 20-25k a year.
Might not sound like a lot to some but I could live like a king on that.
I'm in my late twenties and it's about time I started moving upward.
The days were filled with cringe worthy team-building exercises, lectures, all the stuff you imagine corporate training courses to be, but I like my place of work and I went along with it, even enjoying myself sometimes as there were a good set of people on my course.
We would do our course, head out for a pub lunch or something then go our separate ways until the next morning.
Some of them would go out clubbing but screw that, I can't stand those deafening, sticky cattleyards.
I had my games console and a couple of books with me, and for the first couple of nights I would stay up late in my room blasting aliens then nod off reading about barbarians hacking sorcerer's heads off with broadswords.
Yes I am an unashamed nerd, but as a fairly large guy that works in a retail warehouse for a living, I pull it off, I like to think. I do get flirted with now and then so I'm probably not unpleasant to look at. Subjectively I see Daniel Craig's James Bond when I look in the mirror, but people do see an imaginary version of themselves when they swill the last toothpaste from their mouths and check their reflections before leaving the house.
If you're happy in your skin and confident, you see your favourite movie hero smiling back with killer charm when you look in the mirror.
Lots of people, however, like the girl I met at a wedding I kind've gatecrashed at my hotel don't see anything quite so flattering.
I could hear the faintest throbbing of a beat through my floor. It wasn't bothering me, it was kind've relaxing in its repetitiveness.
At about eight pm, I felt compelled to go to the hotel bar for a couple of drinks, I think mostly out of boredom; My nights had become somewhat routine and I'm not a routines guy.
Chucking on some jeans and a t-shirt I took the stairs and made my way into the bar. This bar was more-or-less empty, the party I could hear was in the function room.
I ordered a bourbon over ice and sat absently watching the TV. A comedy channel was on, playing a two-year-old stand up comedy gig.
As I sipped my drink, three giggling girls stumbled into the bar, all wearing matching blue dresses. Well, nearly matching; there were two girls in figure-hugging dresses with a plunging neckline and a third girl in the same dress but it looked ill-fitting, like she was wearing it two sizes too big to cover herself up more.
The other two girls were bony, fleshless things with B-cup tits at best and skinny legs that looked ready to snap, yet they clearly were the ones turning the heads of the tired business reps I shared the bar with.
The third girl was chubby and didn't appear to have put the same heart into her hair and make-up as the other two girls.
They found the bar, giggling all the way and ordered rose wine.
The barman chuckled. "You have a bar in the function room ladies, you lost?" he teased, his charm aimed at the two skinny girls.
"Balls to that love, queue is a mile long." one of them answered. "You don't mind us bridesmaids sharing your bar do you fellas?" she called out to the bar. The half dozen men shook their heads and voiced their support for their presence.
The two skinny girls didn't seem to talk to the chubby girl much, she was more or less following them, standing just outside the twosome.
She was shorter than them by a foot, and her brunette hair was half-heartedly styled, as if the girls had spent a good long while on their own perfectly curled and ironed and extended hair then realised she made them look bad and given her a once-over with a curling iron. She had chunky secretary glasses on and just came across so awkward, with her chubby face and dumpy posture. I noticed she wore flat shoes too, losing another six inches to the girls in their heels.
I may have been wrong but I think she kept looking at me, though her expression was a little lost. One of the girls turned to me, having noticed I was the youngest guy in the bar by a margin of at least ten years.
"What's your name then hon?"
"What do you want to know that for?" I asked her with a smirk, using my best charm.
"So I know what to shout later if you know what I mean." she sneered, grinning with a drunken wink. The eyes of the chubby girl behind her visibly widened, as if hurt.
"In that case, my name is Harder." I quipped, giving myself an imaginary pat on the back for thinking up a line like that so fast.
The girls laughed aloud, and even the barman chuckled and gave me a "Good one bro." nod.
"You're funny babe, come sit with us, it's shit in there, proper boring."
With that she turned and headed out of the bar. When I didn't follow, she turned and said "Come on then, Harder, you gonna sit with us or what?"
"Screw it" I thought to myself and got up to follow them, followed by the envious eyes of the sweaty balding reps nursing pints of lager in the bar.
I followed the girls to their table at the back of the function room, where the music wasn't so loud it prevented talking. It was the usual medley of cheesy nostalgic stuff, so nothing too annoying.
I was sat at a circular table with the chubby girl on my left, the flirty girl on my right and the other one sat opposite me.
There were about three dozen other people there, and from the girl in the white gown I figured I had crashed a wedding.
"Which of you is chief bridesmaid then?" I asked.
"Me." answered the flirty girl.
"What are you other two then?" I asked the others. The other girl said "Me and Sarah (pointing at the flirty one) are her bezzie mates and Lottie (pointing at the chubby girl) is the bride's little sister."
I looked at the bride on the dancefloor; skinny and blonde like her friends, and she had clearly grudgingly got her plain sister to be her third bridesmaid.
We all chatted, and Sarah kept putting her hands on my thigh whenever she spoke to me. Each time Lottie would look upset.
I tried talking to her over and over but she was so damn shy, at least in front of her two overbearing companions.
