It was a gig in Peterborough and the sun blistered the tarmac as the hot car drove through affluent English counties.
I wasn’t expecting to enjoy this gig at some anonymous country pub. I had suffered a terrible migraine the night before and was just recovering.
The lovely wee bar had tables and chairs outside.
Just as I was onstage introducing the acts, George Best walked in with a very young tall blonde girl. I smiled and carried on chatting to the audience.
As the first comic went on I sat outside and George came out also. I guessed he and the blonde wanted to chat and being in the middle of a comedy gig was not ideal.
He brought me into the conversation by asking me if I liked being a comic and then offered me drink.
“I love comedy but don’t drink thanks mate” I smiled at him.
In my head I wondered why intelligent sassy females fell for this habitually drunk man, what did they expect from life is they get involved with George Best?
I don’t mean I disliked him for any reason, but I just wondered why women were sucked into his life.
I hate alcohol and vowed never to be a drunk; I have an unhealthy dislike of booze, despite selling it for 15 years.
Anyway I sat there chatting with him and silently recalled how much I had a crush on him as a teenager, he was fucking beautiful in his day.
Soon he asked me again if I wanted a drink and I replied “No thanks mate”
“You don’t drink?” he asked me as he leaned over and twinkled those famous sexy eyes and for a brief moment my heart leaped a little.
‘Fucksake George keep that up and I will have you cradled between my ample bosoms and have to kiss you’ I thought to myself.
I have no idea why but suddenly I realised that he is strangely attractive and vulnerable and I briefly started to compromise all my thoughts and fears about men that drink too much!
“Are you an alcoholic?” he kept his intense gaze as he spoke.
“No, I can drink but I chose not to” I replied.
At this George leaned over put his two hands on the table brought his face nearer to me and whispered “You can drink but you chose not to? I wish I was you”.
I laughed and said “No you don’t I have a sore womb, and these boobs are trouble to carry around”
He laughed, took my hand and kissed me, right on the lips. I wasn’t expecting it and had offered my cheek but he got me and it took me slightly aback, and as I regained my composure and sat back in my chair and I realised I was still holding his hand and I blushed, let go and faked interest in the comedy show that was still going on through the big glass window.
There was a pushbike leaning against the bar door and George told me it belonged to the bar manager, the managers mate came out and offered me a go on the bike.
I jumped at the chance, and pedalled of at a speed I wasn’t used to, been years since I was on a bike, but I had just kissed George Best and was having a wee flush so I may as well expend that sexual energy and pedal quickly to hide my embarrassment.
I turned the bike too quick almost fell and sped back straight to George’s table and at the last minute braked….too sharply as the saddle almost went into my bum… it hurt but I couldn’t stop laughing that I was nearly anally penetrated in front of George Best…you have to admit that’s a statement you will never hear again!
We did laugh, he then told me some really dirty jokes and I asked him how it felt to be so very much in the public eye every time you meet a woman. We chatted and he was unbelievable honest with me and my wee journalistic brain started kicking in and I asked him quiet deep probing questions and he kept talking freely. We both discovered that both our mothers never drank until they were in their 30’s and both our mothers died alcoholics.
I liked him, he was honest and funny and incredibly sexy…I didn’t expect that.
I hope you are at peace George and thanks for the kiss, it made me feel I had scored!_