Viva Brighton Issue #30 August 2015

column...........................................John HelmerPimp shoesIllustration by Joda, jonydaga.weebly.com‘I like your shoes’, I tell the man next to me at thebar. They certainly stand out: a black and whitebrogue known as a ‘spectator’ shoe.‘Hand-made,’ he says, not attempting to disguisehis satisfaction. He is large, in late middle age, witha claret flush and black and white hair to match hisfootwear. Which makes him look rather like a badger.He’s been at Ascot, and owns a castle.For reasons too complicated to explain I am outdrinking in Mayfair with an army colonel namedGarry. The Badger joins Garry and me on theoutdoor terrace. ‘I have had two wives and am aboutto take another, thirty years my junior,’ the Badgertells us, launching into a rambling monologue thatbetrays a degree of unease about this event.‘Are you sure she’s got the right skill-set for achatelaine?’ I say.‘You’ve put your finger on the problemthere.’Time for another round. Back at thebar, I meet a youth who has four pintsof Guinness lined up in front of him.‘Are those all yours?’He looks at me foggily. ‘Do youwant one?‘I wasn’t hinting.’With weaving step he follows meout onto the terrace. ‘I’m in privateequity,’ he says, then vomits, brieflybut explosively, on the base of a heatlamp. He is joined by a friend whoseshaved head, small teeth and biggums suggest Ridley Scott’s Alien. ‘I’mwriting a thesis on personal agency,’drawls the alien.His friend vomits again.The terrace closes and we’re moved indoors. TheBadger buys a bottle of champagne. The foggylookingyouth now seems to have five pints of Guinnessand is attempting to pick up a young womanin a frock and a fascinator – something that mightbe easier if he didn’t keep retching over her shoes.A boyfriend appears and demands that his friends(meaning us) do something about him: ‘he’s disgustinglydrunk’.The proper thing at this point, Badger avers, wouldbe to rally behind Foggy and give the boyfriendwhat for.Colonel Garry disagrees. ‘I think you should apologiseto that young woman,’ he tells Foggy. Garry hasa mild, softly-spoken manner, but you are never inany doubt that if pressed he could kill you with hisbare hands.The Badger makes an abrupt volte face. ‘Yes ofcourse he should’, then, changing the subject,launches into an impassioned pitch about the risingmarket, and how I would be a fool not to let himshow me a sure way to make a cool million.There is a fracas. It seems that Foggy’s apology hasbeen so cack-handedly delivered, and accompaniedby so much retching on shoes, that it has provedmore upsetting than the original offence. Securityis called, and Foggy and the Alien removed. TheBadger takes it on the toes.‘He was trying to sell me a dodgy property investment,’I tell Garry.‘Tell you what, let’s finish these.’We sit down and start on the abandoned Guinnesses.‘I should have known, really – he was wearing pimpshoes.’....31....