It was anyone’s guess where his cell-phone had disappeared to. Just like the rest of the night was kind of a blur once they walked out of the disco and into the scorching midday sun. Par for the course for a bachelor party, I guess, but this particular one had been epic.
They had started off mundane enough, in a burger place, filling up on fatty foods to make sure their bodies would be able to cope with the insane amounts of alcohol that would surely follow (a prophetic assumption). But from there on the night spiralled into a dazzling feast of debauchery.
He’d go into details but his memory was seriously failing him as he stuttered across the pavement, sticking to the shadows the houses casted on the streets. By the time he was close to collapsing from exhaustion it hit him. The strip-club. He had left his cell-phone at the strip-club, casting it casually aside while he got a way too short lap-dance from a voluptuous blonde.
The club was only half a mile up the road so he decided to weather the heath for twenty more minutes to drop in and reclaim the phone. As luck would have it the joint was still open and to his surprise the bouncer even remembered him.
Amid the burgundy plush seven naked strippers were grouped together around a cell-phone. His cell-phone. As he approached they smiled at him. Big, beaming, genuinely happy smiles. One of them handed him the phone and showed him the photo his wife had sent at five in the morning. A picture of their cute newborn baby.
On his 16th birthday he would tell his son Steven he first set eyes on him surrounded by seven gorgeous naked women. Steven found that pretty cool.
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