So, like four experienced but excited men from “Last Of The Summer Wine” we descended on the metropolis of Skeg Vegas! Our first port of call was a side street pub which was on the way to the sea front. The pub’s name was the Marine Boathouse Bar, and it was right next door to another bar whose name escapes me. It was a lovely summer evening and the pub was very busy inside, so we decided to take our drinks outside into the front beer garden. Myself, Stuart and Paul were standing enjoying the first of many, and so was Melvin. However, for some reason, Melvin had decided to plonk himself in the adjacent beer garden of the bar next door. One of the doormen who was working at the bar next door, scouring the garden for trouble makers spotted Melvin ‘trespassing’ on his territory, and swooped down on him, forcibly ejecting him from his beer garden onto the beer garden that myself, Stu and Paul were drinking in. Needless to say, we took the piss out of Melvin for causing trouble, and we’ve never let Melvin forget it, mentioning it at every opportunity.
After finishing our beer, we walked around the corner onto the sea front and called into a pub called ‘Wolfies’ and took our beer outside, sitting in the sun with a view of the beach. It was in this pub that Paul revealed his legendary status as a ladies man with a penis like a dinosaur, and proudly told us that his nickname, given to him by his many thousands of conquests, was, and I quote “Mr O”. For all those innocents out there, Mr O stands for Mr Orgasm. Very straight faced, we reacted by taking the piss in the driest manner possible, and I don’t think to this day that Paul realised that we were actually making fun of him! So, myself, Stu, Mr O and the trouble maker walked along the front of the beach into another bar and sampled one or two of their finest ciders and sat outside chatting rubbish and watching the world go by. Then Stu had a eureka moment, suggesting that we walk further on to a pub on the corner of the beach front called ironically, The Sea View. Apparently they ran a Karaoke on a Saturday night, so off we toddled, a 5 or 10 minute walk to the pub that was about to be subjected to the cats chorus. When we walked in the Karaoke was already under way, so we elected the trouble maker to go and put our names down for a sing-song. We chose the name, the Chesterfield choir, and waited for our name to be called. I think we chose an Elvis song called I Just Can’t Help Believing, and when our turn came, all four of us took a microphone from the compare and stood together, and sang the testicles off it, much to the pained expression of the guy running the Karaoke. I think we received a ripple of sympathetic applause, but I can’t say I remember! We walked out of that pub feeling like the million dollar quartet, but I think we probably got a round of applause for actually leaving because we had become a little louder with every drink consumed. As I remember, the trouble maker was becoming a little worse for wear, which was unusual because he could normally handle his beer. Perhaps he was becoming a little nervous of passing the pub with the doorman outside! We called in a few more pubs down a few side streets and back along the sea front, and with every pint, the trouble maker staggered more and more, and Mr O became a little louder, spouting off about his expertise and prowess between the sheets! Our words became more difficult to understand or even say, but we didn’t care because we were completely relaxed and having a great night. The very last pub we went to that night wasn’t actually a pub, it was a working mans club, originally called, you’ve guessed it, Skegness Working Mans Club. When we went in through the doors a woman or a man, I can’t remember which gender, greeted us by asking us if we were members. Of course we said no, but for some reason they allowed us in anyway. However, there was one condition involved, that we kept an eye on the trouble maker, because they could see that he was obviously struggling to stand up straight. So we promised that we would, but once inside, we listened to him mumble something incoherent and watched him comically stagger off in the opposite direction that we were going, so we just laughed as we ordered our last pint of the evening and then went to search for the trouble maker.
After we came out of the club, Mr O informed us that he was going back to Aunty Ruth’s, so as we watched him make his way in the correct direction, the three of us decided to walk along the beach and take a moment to watch the sea crash onto the sand. Well actually, it was myself and Stu who decided to do that, because the trouble maker merely stumbled after us without saying a word. As we stood of the edge of the sea, me and Stu decided to wax lyrical about the beauty of the sea and and the brightness of the stars in the sky. We could see a trawler out in the distance with it’s red and green lights twinkling and myself and Stu used words to describe the serenity of the scene in front of us. Then we turned to trouble maker Melvin to ask him to voice his opinion, and with great aplomb, he uttered the word “Lovely”, through lips that had a life of their own. Myself and Stu fell about laughing. In fact, even to this day, when the opportunity arises, we occasionally ask Melvin what his opinion is on different things, but before he can answer, we say in unison, “Lovely”. Great times, great memories.