Drinking and Smoking and the Guys

 We were all out at the Laird. It was packed and I was supposed to be meeting Tom.

Housemate David and his new guy Mark. David had had two vodkas and was saying what a cheap drunk he was.

Shane was saying that he was single, emotional and drunk... and looking for a guy with a big cock.

Like that will help, at this point, I told him.

Certainly can't hurt, slurred Shane.

Well then, it's certainly not big enough, I replied.

He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned asked where I'd been and if I'd lost his phone number, pointedly? He provided a steady stream of joints, especially after I'd run out of cigarettes. Every time I asked him for one, he'd reply, How about a joint? He had the never ending Tim Tam packet of joints, so it would have seemed.

Sebastian was there too. He and I said wicked things about Shane, as we are want to do. Shane made some disparaging comment about Matt. Ex-fucking-boyfriends. Spit on the ground.

Like he thinks it's hard to break up with Matt, I said to Sebastian. Shane owns property with Mark W, lets see how nasty that one gets.

"Denial, luv," said Sebastian. "It's a wonderful thing."

Tom never turned up, although I got a few texts from him saying his arrival was immanent.

Manny didn't go, we watched Big Brother together and then I tucked him into bed, figuratively, of course.

"Why who wouldn't have thought that a three-way with and Italian wasn't going to end in tears," said Sebastian.

We both laughed

"I'd like to say that I warned him," I said. "But I actually didn't."

Everybody laughed. I passed the joint.

I didn't stay too late. "I've had a shag, a couple of beers and a couple of joints, I'm ready for bed," I said at 1am.

"Are you okay to drive," asked David, in housemate brotherly love.

"I'm pretty stoned..."

"But you've only had one drink?"

"Two."

"Oh, you're fine then," he replied.

Kiss, kiss and I was off.

I saw Tom's car halfway down a long street, half way to my car. He must have finally turned up. He must have been getting a drink as I left the building. I stood next to Tom's car and felt anxious about missing him. The road was long and dark, far to my car. I looked back and the road was long and dark and it was far to go back. I stood next to his car and bounced on the balls of my feet and shoved my hands deep down in my pockets. The car was like a snow mould, sitting there in the dark. Almost, obscenely white, with it's handicapped permit, against the black of the night.

I was too stoned to walk back. I looked behind me. I kept walking.