Mistletoe

For audio click here

It was only 4 pm but already black Friday was looking very dark indeed. The pubs were full of party-goers wearing Santa hats, cracker crowns, and garish Christmas jumpers that played jingle bells if you were unlucky.  Kale held his pint and tried to relax. He wasn’t one for parties, or crowds, or forced happiness. He’d rather be at home with his book, YouTube and possibly YouPorn later, if he felt the need. But that was just a pipe dream  He was here to stay, he had to have fun. He’d managed to escape the works’ team building by claiming he was ill and the summer booze-up by claiming he had hayfever  But there was no way of opting out of the Christmas bash, it was compulsory.
“C’mon Kale mun, put on a smile, it’s Christmas,” Clark the jester-in-chief cagouled him. Kale did his best, but he caught sight of the smile in one of the many mirrors in the bar. He  knew that no one else would fall for it. It wasn’t a smile it was a grimace, but it was the best he could do.
Clark was doing the rounds with the mistletoe. It looked more like sexual assault than Christmas fun, but most of his targets seemed to be happy to have a quick snog and a grope. Clarissa got hold of the mistletoe and was coming straight for him. He tried to turn to nip to the loo, but it was too late. She enveloped him in her ample frame and gave him a wet kiss on his lips before collapsing in laughter along with all the women from her department.
“Oh he’s a good kisser girls,” she yelled, “give him a go.”
Kale wished himself invisible. He glared at them, a look that said don't even think about it. and took a mouthful of gassy lager; they didn't do Guinness in here. He was gripping his pint glass so hard it was a surprise it didn't smash. Mariah told him all she wanted for Christmas was him, then George told him that this year he'd give it to someone special. 
Sal, Clarissa, Laura, Andrea, were all gossiping now. Kale  knew what they’d be saying. They’d call him a killjoy, a misery guts, but he wasn’t trying to ruin their fun. He was happy for them to do what they want, but it just wasn’t his thing. He tried the smile he’d practised in his bedroom a thousand times in the last week, but he knew it wasn’t natural.
“I wish I was at home,” Kale looked around to see Sal looking at him.
“You?” Kale said, “I thought this was right up your street.”
“God no, I hate all this. I mean who thinks it’s a good idea to put mirrors in bars? Bars should not have mirrors.”
“I was just thinking that,” Kale said, smiling what felt like was a real smile.
“And if Clark comes near me with that bloody mistletoe, I’ll knee him in the balls. Have you recovered from the freak of nature that is Clarissa?”
“Just about, Kale said, wiping imaginary saliva from his lips. “I thought you liked this kind of do.”  He looked at her, he’d always seen a formidable woman in work, a party animal, a ball-breaker, but in this light, there was just a trace of vulnerability in those pretty eyes.
“I’m a good actor,” she said, “unlike you.”
“That obvious,” Kale laughed. Kale laughed!
Sal looked at him, Kale liked that look. Sal picked up the mistletoe Clark had discarded.
“Would you do me the honour?” She said.
Kale genuflected grandly. “I’d be glad to,” he said and gave the last woman he ever kissed her first kiss.