The Painfully Awkward Transition to Manhood

All credit goes to Ross

John looked at himself in the mirror, checking that there were no errant hairs sticking out. He then blew his nose and checked that there were no errant bogies hanging out. Satisfied that this was the case on both counts, he went out of the bathroom and into his room. There he sprayed himself with deodorant, except there was only enough for one armpit. So he took out a new but different can for the other.
“Oh well, that’ll keep them guessing,” he said to no one in particular.

He got dressed in his only set of smart clothes, grimacing at how uncomfortable they felt. It had been a while since he had worn them. Maybe they were too small. He stretched his arms this way and that, making sure that the shirt looked right on him. He hated wearing shirts and decided to compromise by wearing it open with a t-shirt underneath. Anyway, as his dad was always saying the family motto was comfort over style.

Just then a car hooted its horn outside, making him jump. He rushed down the stairs and was about to put on his shoes when a voice stopped him.
“Hey,” his dad called from the living room, “before you go gallivanting off into the night, come here.”
John padded in and his dad rose from the couch with a groan, obligatory beer can in hand. He forced a twenty pound note into John’s hand, along with something else. John opened it to see what it was. A condom. He frowned at his old man
“Be good,” he was told, “and if you can’t be good, be careful. Now say bye to your mother and be off.”

He quickly went to the kitchen where his mum was doing the washing. Waiting until she rose from the machine, he kissed her on the cheek.
“Bye mum,” he said quickly
“Have a good time sweetie,” she said, giving him a look that was far too knowing.

The horn sounded again and John pulled on his shoes and jacket, debating for an instant if a coat would be necessary or not. He deemed that it was and strode out the door, calling out a goodbye as he closed it behind him.

Outside there was a large people carrier waiting for him. He opened the door and got in the back seat.
“Ya finally decided tae show up ya baw,” was his greeting from his neighbour, a stout twenty something ginger Glaswegian.
“You’re not allowed to give me cheek today, Jaffa. It’s my birthday you know.”
“Aye well, just think yerself lucky that we decided tae move the staff night out tae coincide with your graduation tae manhood”
“He’s not a man yet,” Tim, John’s boss and owner of the garage called back from the front. “But by the end of tonight he may well be.”
“Yeah, we got something special planned for you tonight lad,” added his brother Alan, who was sitting besides him. It was him that offered to take John on board as apprentice mechanic to the local garage.
“Easy guys, I don’t want to wake up with your hairy feet in my face,” John replied to the middle aged balding men. Tim reversed the car, revving the engine so that children behind them would get out the way, and they sped off.
“So, where are we going anyway?” John asked looking out the window as the scenery gradually changed from vaguely rural to distinctly urban. “Grub, pub then club?” He had thought of that earlier and was quite proud of it and the way it sounded.
The two brothers exchanged a look and laughed.
“Somethin’ like that aye” Jaffa said, smiling as well.
“Fine, don’t tell me.”

The evening started off pretty much how John imagined it though. They arrived in the city at the back end of nine and went into a pub for the aforementioned grub. Munching down on his fish and chips, John listened to them talk about football, tell racist and sexist jokes and moan about customers who, in Jaffa’s words, were “Fanny gobshites.”

Tim finished his pint and motioned to John.
“Your round is it?”
“I guess so. Same again for everyone?”
They all nodded so John collected the empty glasses and awkwardly took them to the bar. There he stood for a while, trying and failing to catch the barman’s eye before he finally came over to serve him.
“Any I.D on you mate?” he asked John, who hurriedly dug into his pocket and pulled out his driver’s licence. The barman examined it and smiled faintly.
“Happy Birthday mate,” he said as he poured the drinks. “’Fraid it’s all downhill from here on. And that will be £10.70 please.”
John pulled out a twenty and a condom, handing them to the barman. He then realised what he had done and quickly snatched it out of the man’s hand, who was decent enough to pretend not to have noticed. He tried to carry all four drinks at once, spilled some, and then opted to take them two at a time, spilling more anyway. He sat down, glad that the ordeal was behind him and feeling faintly manlier for having bought his first ever round.

“Cheers John,” said Alan. “Now listen to this. What’s black and white and red all over?”
“A newspaper?”
“An aborted zebra foetus.”
“Nice.”

Several rounds and many suspect jokes later, John was beginning to get slightly pissed. He asked Tim what the time was
“Just coming up for eleven. Which means actually, that we should be getting ready to saddle up and move out.”
“Ah, so am I now ready to find out where we’re going?”
“All in good time kid, all in good time.”

They walked out into the city, which had become dark and tinged orange with streetlights. John followed as the older men made their way briskly down the street, complaining about the sudden cold that had fallen. Jaffa lit a fag and so John amused himself by ducking and dodging the second hand smoke that blew over towards him.

Finally they reached their destination, a large yet discreet building with a small neon sign at the front reading “Katie’s”. Standing outside was a large black man in a large black coat. The group approached the door, John feeling quite apprehensive. He had never even seen a bouncer before, and was acutely aware of not being entirely sober.

“Evening gents,” he said in a deep self assured voice, “how are we all tonight?”
The group’s consensus was that they were all quite fine thanks and after a second of quiet contemplation, the bouncer nodded and motioned them to come in. Then his eyes fell on John.
“Do you have proof of age on you, young man?” he asked.
Once again John fumbled in his pocket for his I.D and once again he accidentally took out the condom as well.
Like the barman, the bouncer laughed when he saw the date and nodded him to come in with the others. They all walked up the stairs and entered a large dark room. John looked around. There were poles. There were women. And there were booths at the back. He thought he had an inkling as to where they were now

“This…is a lap dancing parlour?” he said, wondering if that was the correct terminology.
“Naw, it’s the Christian aid centre,” said Jaffa
“I wonder what my parents would say if they knew I was in a place like this.”
“Well your dad was all for when I told him,” commented Tim.
“You did?”
“Yeah well, we didn’t want to take you anywhere that your folks really didn’t want you to be. So it was only fair that we asked them.”
“Huh, and what did my mum say?”
“Somethin’ ah hope that ma own dear ole ma would never say aboot me,” laughed Jaffa
“She was even more for it I think,” Alan said.

John gave himself a mental shrug at his parents’ parenting and tried not to look at all the scantily clad women about. It was taking all of his concentration not to get an erection.
“Well lads,” declared Alan, “I think it’s time for tequila shots.” He went away and brought back four small glasses. They all took one and the three men knocked their’s right back. John sipped on his and grimaced.

They sat themselves down at a table and chatted idly for a while. John was extremely glad to no longer be standing and tried to arrange himself in a manner which would allow discretion for unwanted crotch movement. He hoped he wouldn’t be asked to get another round in anytime soon. His eyes wondered and he tried his best to finish his tequila.

It was then that he noticed all the men pull out money.
“If we’re buying drinks, no more shots for me,” he pleaded.
“We’re buying you your birthday present,” said Alan. “Now, what’s your flavour?” He pointed to a black woman in leather boots.
“Chocolate?”
Then he gestured to an Asian woman wielding a riding crop.
“Chow mien?”
Then he motioned to a Latino girl in silver hot pants, thought for a long time, before allocating her the flavour of “Brazil nut?”
“Ah, you look just like a kid in a candy store,” his brother told him.

John was actually quite scared now, but he knew that there was to be no way out of this, so he decided to grit his teeth and bite the bullet.
“Miss Brazil seems nice…”
“Aye that she does. Maybe yew’ll find out if she ‘as a Brazilian as well.”

And just like that, they waved her over and she came. They handed over the money and Alan said, “Take him to a booth yeah? I don’t want to see him spunk himself.”
“Sure thing” she said, taking john by the hand. “Come with me handsome.” Despite appearances, her accent sounded Liverpudlian. John found this oddly reassuring.
“Treat him nice. It’s his birthday!” called Tim as he was led away.

He was led into one of the booths and the curtain was drawn.
“Sit down there on that stool honey,” she said in a sultry professional voice. “And keep your hand behind your back at all times. If you want, I’ll tie them.”
“N... No thanks,” John said, quickly complying. There were sweaty padded holds there, which he clung on to desperately. In the top corner, a light came on and she began.

She knocked his legs apart with hers and ran her hands down from his face to his chest to his thighs. She moved her body into him and slowly took off her top and then her red lacy bra. The moment was ruined a bit when John realised his mum had been holding the exact same bra earlier on. It was quickly regained when she began rubbing her breasts and leaning ever closer to his face.

Christ thought John, breathing in short gasps. I think I’m about to…He tried to turn his head away from her, but she choose that moment to grab his hair and pull him towards her. And that’s when he sneezed all over her. She jumped back in alarm and swore, then stood dumb at a loss what to do now. The light was still on.

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,” John said. “Here, I’ve got a handkerchief in my pocket.” He pulled it out and gave it to her, along with the condom, which fell to the floor.
“Ummm, thanks,” she said wiping herself. “Do you want me to start again?”
“No thank you…look, can we just talk or something. I feel like I’ve been thrown into the deep end here, and I’m kinda drowning.”
The topless woman laughed. Clearly talking was a novelty value for her.
“I guess so…so, what do you do?”
“I’m an apprentice mechanic at a garage.”
“Oh,” she said, smiling. “I do mechanical engineering at City College”
“Cool. So this is a part time gig?”
“Yeah well, I have to support my family as well and this is the only place I could make enough money to do both.”
“Well that sucks.”

They talked away for a few moments about life and John was amazed at how much more human she was than he ever expected her to be. Then all too soon the light went out.
“I’m sorry, we have to go now,” she told him. “I’ll get yelled at if I’m not back on the floor. But I want you to know that you’re a really sweet guy.”
She leaned in and kissed him very lightly on the lips. And in later years, when the subject of first kisses came up, John always had the best story.