Seven Lady Santas and a Dwarf
In a small town called Morpeth, the old Lloyds bank was converted to a bar and called “The Banque”. It’s called something else now. However, on the night of this story it was still called “The Banque”.

An old pal of mine was getting married one December, so decided her hen night would involve us all dressing in Santa outfits. They all had frilly, girly Santa dresses with sparkling feminine Santa hats – no expense spared they on this occasion. Being a tad skint at the time, mine was a man’s costume from Woolworth’s, the fabric of which parted like cotton wool when stretched.

Our evening was spent in The Banque, until Debbie (the hen) announced she needed her karaoke fix. My heart sank, but it was her night and she was a good singer, so off we trotted to The Cornerstone. At least they served half decent beer.

Whilst purchasing beer, I got chatting with a chap at the bar and presently he asked me if I’d like to dance with him. “Why not?” I thought, placing my beer on the bar.

Then he got down from his stool.

Now I’m only 5’2” after a session with my chiropractor – the top of this guy’s head was just about level with my chest.

I stared down at the thinning hair on his scalp and he stared up at my tits.

With an open mind and a belly full of Boddingtons, I approached the dance floor as Little Elvis, as he is known, slid his stubby little fingers through mine. Great galloping gonads, I felt like Gulliver.

Now, I’m the first to admit that I dance like a twat. Paired with Little Elvis I could’ve been Ginger Rogers. Or Fred Astair, since I was wearing a man’s outfit. Then, out of the blue, he lunged at me. He grabbed my arse, one ample cheek struggling in each of his little hands. “That’s rude”, thought I, grabbing his little bottom in the same fashion. Only I didn’t just grab his arse, I scooped him up in one fluid motion, sat him on my hip and proceeded to swing him around. By now, we had quite an audience.

Possibly emboldened by this, and now being able to reach, Little Elvis stuck the lips on.

Or rather, he dislocated his jaw, python style, and violated my tonsils with his fetid tongue.

In repulsion I dropped him.

On his back.

Momentarily he spun, reminding me of the Smash advert robots rolling on the floor, laughing at humans for pealing potatoes. As I wiped his slime from my face with the sleeve of my Santa jacket, I wondered if I’d broken him. Quickly, I helped him to his feet, picked him up and put him back on his bar stool.

Averting my gaze from that of the barstaff, I muttered, "I hope I didn't break you dwarf......!?" before making a sharp exit back to The Banque, wishing I'd stayed there all along.


He was ok though, I saw him the following week and hid.
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Fri 17 Jul 2009, 13:29, 14 replies)

*tries in vain to hide behind the desk partition, fist in mouth to hold the officelols in*
Fantastic story! Gets a good, hard click!
( Labia Majora You keep on talking but it makes no sense at all, Fri 17 Jul 2009, 13:41, closed)

*adopts Nigella voice*
Ooh, I love it when you do it hard ;o)
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Fri 17 Jul 2009, 13:51, closed)

Ah, Little Elvis
king of the Karaoke round our way. And always sings Elvis songs, hence his name.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 17 Jul 2009, 13:49, closed)

It's called Aruba now I think.
And Shooters also does karaoke sometimes... I try to avoid Shooters when I'm in Morpeth.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Fri 17 Jul 2009, 14:27, closed)

I avoid everywhere apart from the Tap & Spile
The Joiners & Red Bull are ok too.

*feels old*

Yep, you're right, it's Aruba now. Shooters is another meat market like most of Morpeth.

*puts on beige cardigan*
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Fri 17 Jul 2009, 14:34, closed)

I like the Joiners.
First pub in Morpeth I ever went to. When we're there though, we mostly tend to go to the Sun Inn, it's less than a minute's walk from my fiance's parents house.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Mon 20 Jul 2009, 12:16, closed)

I was in Shooters last night
my taxi not being booked until midnight and still having half an hour to kill.

It's been done out and the karaoke has been done away with, thank fuck. There's now a pole on the dance floor though *cringe*
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 17 Jul 2009, 15:24, closed)

Urgh.
I went to Szoda once (used to be a cinema I think), which was alright, downright posh compared to Shooters. But then, most places are.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Mon 20 Jul 2009, 12:16, closed)

Most definately-
needs a video link, or it most certainly didn't happen
( Blind Meach Cautiously optimistic, Fri 17 Jul 2009, 15:01, closed)

I'd almost forgotten about The Banque
I had my first (underage) bar pint in the Banque. And then another. And then several more.

Then my (equally underage) drinking companion threw up into a pint glass, filling it almost perfectly.

Then we were asked to leave - albeit with a cheery "see you next time though." I think they were glad of the (admittedly messy) custom on a quiet Tuesday night.

I miss the Banque, and Morpeth in a funny kind of way.

P.s. The last time I came back about a year ago, the Red Bull had paint and tables and windows that let light in. What has Dean done with the place???
(R0SS, Fri 17 Jul 2009, 15:44, closed)

He's revamped it in a pseudo art nouveau way
It was totally gutted from the floods last year, and being independant he had no brewery chain to bail him out. It look him 8 or 9 months to get the place back on its feet. So it's even more girlie than when you last saw it - not only tables and stuff, it has a gazebo thingy with flowers outside and everything.
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Fri 17 Jul 2009, 15:55, closed)

Floods...
Forgot about them.

Glad to hear he's back on his feet. Even in a pseudo art nouveau kind of way.

I may have to make the pilgrimage back up at some point...
(R0SS, Fri 17 Jul 2009, 16:02, closed)

Let us know if you do - I'll have a pint with anybody ;o)
And Dean does keep exceedingly good beer.
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Fri 17 Jul 2009, 16:06, closed)

I may just do that...
Northumbrian friendliness FTW.
(R0SS, Fri 17 Jul 2009, 16:18, closed)