One Night in Melbourne

I caught up with Aby, last night. One night in Melbourne, of three nights here, before she heads to the Big Apple, Monday morning. She seemed good, she looked great, as she told me how she's been sick in Tassie, for the last few weeks. Bronchitis, I think it was. It's funny, it's never struck me before what a hypochondriac Aby is. There's always a tale of sickness, from her. I guess I never noticed when I used to see her more often, live with her.

The story about her going to apply for the dole for the first time, last year, still makes me laugh. Tom had convinced her that she had to put on a great show, firstly, as sickness benefits are more lucrative, and secondly, so she wouldn't have to comply to all the work for the dole requirements. She convinced them she had avian flu, or at least convinced them that she believed she had avian flu. She told them about the voices in her head, which she meant like the voices that we all hear in our heads... and how she wasn't at all sure if this world was one that she wanted to continue in. They wanted to call the C.A.T. Team and they wanted to assign her a psychiatrist. They wanted to put her on suicide watch.

Oops, said Aby, as the Department of Social Services started to call her every day. A little too convincing, perhaps.

But she got put on benefits, without any responsibilities needing to be met by her.

I told her that we could write a whole film about it, somehow this deception would come back and bite the character, in the end.

Aby does have a certain madness in her eyes, when she talks about her illness, though, I noticed last night.

Tony was, of course, with her. They are still together, Aby and he, despite Aby heading OS indefinitely.

Aby is a bit worried about all of her debt collectors coming home to roost while she is absent - unable to duck and weave, bat and catch and throw again, with them all. There's a real possibility, says Ab, that all the various departments, with both her identities, will work the whole lot out while she isn't here to slot in acceptable excuses, or shuffle payments. She has, of course, got a new credit card to finance this latest trip.

Pete, Aby's friend was there too. Pete and I have never really clicked, conversation wise. Don't know why. We both seem to hesitate with each other and stand back.

Another friend of Aby's was next to me, rounding out the six. I'd never met Chris before, but apparently, he's known Aby for ages. He was a little surprised, as I was, that Aby and I had lived together, so recently, and the two of us had never met, as he lives in Fitzroy too.

I was a little intimidated by Chris, as I was sat next to him, as I normally am when I first meet someone who I, well, fancy. Dark hair, blue eyes, a gorgeous mouth that smiled so easily. But, we soon got chatting and he seemed to be sneaking looks at me, like someone who was interested in me, might do. We talked about architecture in Fitzroy, politics, love, life and I was smitten, or could have been, if I didn't assume he was straight.

As we were organising the bill, as everyone was in a financial huddle, Chris stretched lazily and as he did, his shirt rode up and I gazed upon his sexy stomach, which he caught me doing and he smiled sweetly. I wanted to touch him, where the hair appeared out of the top of his jeans.

When I got home, I said to Tom, Do you think Chris was straight?

I think they were both straight.

No, Tom. Pete is gay.

Really, said Tom?

Yeah, sure. And I've heard him bemoan the fact that he can't find a boyfriend. He's looking for love and the "one," I said. A bit like you.

What! said Tom. Now you tell me. If I'd known that, I'd have moved myself next to him and got chatting.

So, according to Tom, anyway, Chris could easily have been gay.

We waved them all good bye in the cold night air. Chris seemed to shake my hand, like he really meant it, as his eyes danced across my face to find mine, as he smiled seductively. But, I put it down to my imagination.

Must email Ab and tell her that her friend Chris was cute. What a waste! Just to see what she says. He's within walking distance, after all... and smart... and there has been something unusual happening with the name Chris, lately. Friend's with new Chris' in their lives has been happening a lot lately.

Do I bemoan not having a boyfriend, asked Tom. Do I really?