Lovely Rita

The dark, cold Liverpool streets were perfect camoflage for the four lads I was with. This was the only time they wouldn't be swarmed with girls. I felt myself scowl inside at that last thought. Oddly.
I linked arms with the human radiator Paul as we left his car and wandered to an obscure Liverpool pub that I could tell the lads were accustomed to, as they hastily and knowingly made their way there. I didn't bother asking where we were off to.
We reached the old style pub. It was traditional looking, and I'd not seen it before in my travels in Liverpool during Uni. It might have even been knocked down...
It had red brick designs, with Georgian style windows and a black tiled roof with a chimney. I couldn't even read what the sign said, that proves just how run down and old style it was! Inside, it was like an old tavern you would expect to find in a really cold place. It was like a log cabin inside, and the interior screamed of Canada, though bared no reference to the country. It was warm, cosy and practically empty bar a few old drunks who wouldn't know the boys even if they could be any more famous. They clearly had nothing to worry about here, and so could be themselves easily. It relaxed me a little, I had to admit. Paul looked down at me as we approached the bar.
"What do you want?" He sort of mumbled.
"Um, I'll start of slow. Pint of lager please!" I winked at him. He looked shocked at my taste in drinks at first, before he shook his head at me.
"Okay, two of those then please, Shaun." Paul said, holding up note money. I couldn't tell exactly what the amount was, as I wasn't accustomed to older money, but I knew it was far less than what we'd pay today. And when Paul said 'keep the change', I felt even more gutted!
"You're just full of surprises." Paul mumbled to me, as we recieved our drinks and joined the already drinking bandmates of my Paul.
"I like a lady who can drink!" John almost yelled as we sat down. I smiled dryly at his comment, not sure if he was being sexist or feminist.
"You'll love a lady who can smoke, play guitar and go to school until she's 21 then!" I smiled at him, before chugging down a big mouthful of the sweet liquid in my pint glass. I needed to chill and just relax around these guys.
"Well, well! A smart alec too, eh? You found a good'un here Pauly. She's not like all those other tramps that come parading in front of us with their tits half out. She's a decent chick." John smiled, patting Paul on the knee. I could see Paul smile as he drank, relishing in the fact that they liked me for sure now. I kinda wanted to cry tears of joy, but I remained composed.
An hour or two passed and we were drunk. So very drunk. Nicely drunk though. Not throwing up in a bucket with the person holding your hair also throwing up, but just laughing and being merry as friends should.
"Well, in years to come we have a shitty government, expensive university fees and a country in a God-knows-how-many-dips recession. So yeah, the future's peachy lads!" I laughed, revelling in my superior knowledge. I also noticed Paul, who incessantly put his hand on my thigh and rubbed it, or kept it resting there for a few seconds. I'd have said something, but A) I was enjoying it, and B) I was in the Sixties. Be it in dream form or otherwise, I was going to let myself have this chance.
"Sounds bloody brilliant!" George piped up sarcastically. Being branded the quiet one, it was lovely to see him in his element, freely chatting and laughing with us all. Ringo the same, though he was as he was usually.
"I prefer this era. I want to stay here. It's like being Alice in Wonderland, but in a more... believable situation. I love it here. I just want to stay with you guys forever!" I lamented, evolving my drunkness into the stage of depression. I went through stages when I drank lager. First I get happy, then I get fucking hilarious as far as I'm concerned, then I get depressed, then I get stupid, then flirty and finally, tired. It was a long and arduous cycle, but it was fun. I'm young and on the edge between student and adult, shut up.
I leaned into Paul, who put an arm around my shoulder and kissed the crown of my head. I wasn't sure whether to take that as a sign of affection or just due to my slightly depressing comment. I laughed at him for being a soppy bastard.
"You're such a fag." I laughed, not being homophobic, just trying to get on his nerves.
"Why?!" He yelled at me.
"No reason. You just are, kissing people's heads like that." I said, laying down so my head was on his thighs and I could look up at his fringed face. He looked down at me and fiddled with my hair.
"What do you want to be?" He asked, out of the blue as if we were completely alone. He clearly had a weird way of being drunk too. I complied.
"I want to be an actress. You know, like Marilyn Monroe or Judy Garland, or something. I wanna be on the silver screen one day, Paul. I just love the idea. Hollywood, America, all that jazz." I smiled up at him, with images of Beverly Hills floating through my drunken mind. He looked down at me quizically, as if trying to read my thoughts, before speaking again.
"I could have guessed. You've got that kind of face." He smiled. The rest of the lads talked amongst themselves as we stayed in this position, chatting to eachother for a while. No one seemed to notice. No one seemed to care. Paul stroked my hair, pulling one particular long, blonde tendril to it's fullest extent. He eyed it like it was strings of gold and I fiddled with a button on his jacket, before I got the sudden urge to sit up. I had an idea and I wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Let's go for a drive. I just want to fucking ride. Paul?" I looked over at him hazily, seeing four Pauls through drunken eyes.
"Damn it, Rita, I'm bevvied! How the hell do you expect me to drive?" He replied, sounding exasperated.
"But I want to. It'll be fun. If the police don't catch us before we crash and die, then they're not doing their job right, are they?" I smiled cheekily and winked at Paul, before he smiled and picked up his keys off of the table.
"Lovely Rita, you're meant to be a meter maid." He said, curling his face up and inching closer to mine, just to poke my nose. Though I know I wanted more. I hoped he did, too. I think I was on the cusp of the stupid phase and heading into the flirty sector. I didn't mind. "Right, we're off lads. Make your own way back and, be safe. Got a bloody recording session tomorrow. Night!" Paul said, waving to the lads. I did too, mainly because I couldn't muster words for my drunkenness. I clung to Paul's arm, and saw the lads exchange looks as we left, but I didn't care. Fuck it, I wanted this dream now.
"This is going to be so awesome." I said, using more and more modern language for where I was. Paul was getting used to it. He stepped into the driver's seat after helping me slip into the passenger side, and started the ignition cack-handedly. I laughed at him for it, which was something he didn't like particularly, but who cares?
"You ready for the ride of your life, Rita baby?" He said jokingly, winking at me with his baby eyes. I laughed like a smitten schoolgirl. I felt as though I had melted onto the leather chair of his car. I nodded, words unable to form in my mouth or brain. He turned, half smiling smugly. He knew what he'd done to me, the bastard. I smiled too and he began to drive.