Powder Room Page #3

- Oh, my God! You're gonna do it!

Yes! Aw! I love you, Paige.

Come on, it's okay.

You can handle this. It's fine.

It's only one night.

Happy. Happy,

happy thoughts. Come on.

Oh, God.

Oh, for...

Don't worry, no one saw.

- You saw.

- Yeah, I did. You should feel ashamed.

You having a good night?

- Er, yeah.

- That means no.

- I said yes.

- You said, "Um, yeah", but you meant no.

- How about you? Good night?

- No. Not really.

I mean, I liked your whole toilet

roll dance, that was good.

But apart from that,

no, not a good night.

We should compare notes. Why are

you having such a bad night?

Er, I'm not having a bad

night as such. It's just...

You're just sitting alone, talking

to yourself, chain smoking.

Ah, yeah, like all

the great nights.

It's my thing. This happened.

Oh, my God.

You got shot in the arse?

That would put a downer on things.

I remember the night I got shot.

It was proper sh*t after that.

This small one's for you.

Just put it right at the back of your

throat and wash it back quick, okay.

God, that's disgusting.

Paige Burger, you naughty girl.

Let's go dance!

- Why are you having a bad night?

- Oh, no. My night is awful.

I mean, first of all, I'm out with work

mates, which is never a good start.

Plus, I'm in a nightclub,

which I just hate.

This place is such a dive.

No. I hate all nightclubs.

The whole dancing thing.

- I can't dance.

- Right.

And if you stand still

on the dance floor,

as a bloke, you just look

like a sexual predator.

And also, I can't drink.

I just never learned

how to handle it.

So, my all-round emasculation

and awkwardness combined

means that no, I'm not

having a good night.

You look really familiar.

I don't know why.

I'm being serious here. It's

not me trying to chat you up.

- I mean, all the rest was.

- What, that was your chat up?

I'm giving you gold here.

Was it from in here? Not tonight,

I mean, like, another night.

Boom. I know who you are.

- Who?

- That caff on Smith Street.

You work there, right?

It was just that I tried

to have a conversation

with you once but you

weren't having it.

Sorry about that. I don't

work there any more.

No?

No. Look, I'm going to

have to get back inside.

I'm sorry. I didn't

mean to keep you from...

You didn't.

Sorry. Bye.

Sam.

- What you doing in here?

- Toilet. You all right?

Indeed I am. I love this place.

I think I've found the one.

He's got jeans, black shirt. But stay

away, 'cause he's prime to be mine.

All yours.

What happened to Mr Bar Guy, then?

I thought... That didn't last long.

It's not going to work out.

It all went a bit Adele.

So I moved on. And just as well 'cause

I think this guy's the one. I'm sure.

What's his name?

- Good.

- Well, what's in a name?

You know, to call a rose something else,

doesn't mean it wouldn't smell as sweet.

- Shakespeare.

- Not quite.

And he's a Leo. Regal.

- You did star signs? Really?

- Just 'cause you don't agree with it.

It's nature. It's earthly.

It's neither.

It's a complete crock of sh*t that you

talk about in order to appear earthly.

Typical cuntish Gemini.

What are you...

You don't shave at home?

Well, yeah, I do. But every few hours,

the stubble starts to grow back.

If I'm going to get lucky,

I'm gonna get smooth.

First of all, shagging that guy

is not called getting lucky,

that's called getting AIDS.

- And second of all...

- Oh, yeah, I forgot.

Sam, the ironic oracle of

love and relationships.

In fact, because you don't approve makes me

feel more confident that this might work.

What are you... No! Don't you dare!

Don't you shave that rat

in here! No! No way!

Razor away, now.

You don't need any

more f***ing makeup.

He's only gonna lick it off anyway.

- Have you seen my bronzer?

- You're bright orange!

I don't want to sound

like a b*tch or nothing,

but could you not

like stand so close?

Eh?

I just mean, if it looks

like I'm out with you...

Which you are.

Yeah, but then he might feel we

can't, like, talk, and kiss and that.

Oh, right. So, what? I just

stand in the club by myself?

- Well, you're not...

- No, no, great. No, no.

Yeah, and I'm not going to look

like a total weirdo or nothing.

No. People dance by

themselves all the time.

Yeah, Mel. Weirdoes.

- You all right?

- No. I haven't had a sh*t for days.

I thought if I had a cig it

might relax it, you know.

Move it or whatever. But nothing.

Swear to God. When did

I last have anal?

Tuesday. And nothing since.

Don't you think that

tells you something?

Like, I don't know, maybe your bum hole

isn't designed to have cock shoved up it?

What, you're telling me that

you've never had anal sex?

- No, I haven't.

- A sneaky finger?

- No!

- Liar.

I haven't!

What, you've never put your finger up

a dude's arse? They f***ing love it.

Well, if they love it so much, they

can do it themselves, can't they?

Can we stop this, please?

God, did you see how old those

girls were? What, were they like 12?

Come on, we were coming to these

clubs when we were too young.

- We weren't that young.

- We were.

We just had these to

get us in everywhere.

You're welcome. Right, I'm off.

Come and say "Hi".

- Keep your knickers on.

- Not a chance.

Voil.

- Hi.

- Here she is.

Where have you been?

Are you okay?

Yeah. Sorry, I was

just about to come over.

We got you this.

It's... It's a Pink Lady.

Dame Rose.

Cheers.

- It's champagne, gin and pamplemousse.

- Nice?

Uh-huh.

This is what we drink in Paris.

Sam, you would love it there.

- I've always wanted to go to Paris.

- Well, come. You should totally come.

And we could show you how

Parisians really rock it.

Oh, my God, I would

love that. Really?

Yes. And you can stay at my place.

I have an extra room.

Wow. Really?

And Mike totally wouldn't mind

because he's so amazing like that.

I could stay at your place, you know,

until I got set up or whatever, and then...

Set up for?

What about your job?

I could just try something

else for a little while.

- What about Sean?

- Really?

- You'd just pack up and leave like that?

- Well, yeah. Definitely. Why not?

Wow, you are such a nutter.

F*** off!

F*** off now!

I can't, I'm sorry.

This is too funny!

- Why did you tell me it was fancy dress?

- I didn't.

Yes, you did.

On the phone. You did!

I said dress fancy!

No, you didn't. Don't try... You didn't.

You said something about...

You said something about fancy dress and

I said about maybe coming as a baby.

Remember? And you

didn't say nothing.

I didn't know what you

were talking about.

Ugh!

What am I going to do now? Huh?

I look like a prick!

What?

It's not funny, all right.

But it is, though!

Well, if it's that funny,

swap clothes with me then.

No way!

Look, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

No.

Okay, what are you

wearing under that?

Nothing.

- No!

- Wait, wait.

The same thing happened to me.

People are drunk, they'll just

think you did it on purpose.

Come on.

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