Smoking

I woke earlish, something like 6am. I rolled over and gazed at Sam, as I often do. I made a “are you awake” noise. 

He grunted back.

“You awake?” I whispered.

He made the sucking sound he makes when he is trying to suggest we smoke meth.

No let up.

He makes me laugh.

We drift back to sleep.

Later, we were up and eating muesli and coffee. A pretty usual Sunday morning, lazy. Am I lazy? I think, if I was truthful, I’s have to admit that my whole family calls me lazy. I sometimes worry if I am a little on the, shall we say, boring side. Too much into the schedule – read, what I always do – no spontaneity, perhaps. Well, not enough. But, I like my life. Shrug. What can I say? We’re like a couple, I guess. I must give this some more thought. Don’t be lazy.

I paid all of mum’s bills, some late. Lazy? Oh woops, one was her tax? Good thing I didn’t go and see mum with Gill, as she would have been here at 10am, probably, wanting the paid bills paperwork. Good thing, as they weren’t paid until about midday. But they are paid?

We were just heading out to the car.

Shane got up just as we were leaving, after a night on the crack pipe, apparently he had a date. He seemed to leave the house twice during the night, once late and once really late. Click, click. Click, click.

I guess I don’t know where and when he was meeting him?

“Do you want a joint?” were his first words.

“Oh, really?” I said. A joint? I should be good. Don’t smoke! Don’t smoke! Don’t smoke!

Shane came back from the laundry, or somewhere near by. He hadn’t been back upstairs again.

“You know what, we were just leaving, so I won’t have a smoke.”

“Oh, okay,” said Shane.

Sam was by the ottoman and I was close to the back door. Shane reached over and said something to Sam. Then he headed back into the house and upstairs. Shane is very heavy-footed, I can always tell where he is in the house.

“He asked me to wait?” said Sam, looking like he didn’t quite hear what Shane said.

“Oh, okay,” I said. Released. Weak as piss, I was already crumbling on the joint.

“I think that’s what he said.”

“Oh, okay then.” I shrugged. “Probably.”

Shane then came down with Tully and the pot. They both sat on the big couch. Tully was a very handsome arab boy, with bright sparkling eyes (Ed note – they were both choofing on the peace pipe, I would suggest) And a beautiful smile. Who was built like a gym head. He was incredibly toned and tattooed and shirtless.

Shane rolled joints.

Of course, he asked Sam to wait. But it had nothing to do with the pot, that was just his hi-as-a-kite disposition. Meth makes you chatty, he breaks down boundaries completely and people speak from their pressing need. He really wanted us to see Tully – (but I didn’t work that out until a few days later) to see how hot he was.

Sam and I sat on the coffee table and shared the joint. Lovely. Apparently, Sam gazed at Tully’s nipples.

I was stoned as we walked out the back door. Sam made some comment about how long Tully’s nipples were. Or was it just one and not the other? Then Sam made a filthy car comment. So we washed the dirty car. Poor thing, so neglected.

I’d like a new car.

I told Sam that I was a nicer person when I’m stoned.

We went to Pho shop in Victoria Street and ate soup. Yum yum. It was crowded, we shared a table with, what looked like, an old university couple. Avocado skivvies, brown cords, both hair grey, hers half pinned up, half not. Both very slim and wiry, like they go rock climbing or bush walking together.

We went to Sam’s place and got his suit and Brian’s old mini sound system. Brian is completely insane and updates perfectly good electrical equipment all the time. Actually, I guess I should say he is fabulous.

We came home, smoked more pot and went to Manhaus, bought lube and some vibrating devices. Sam likes electrical sex toys.

I made risotto. We bought asparagus and had prawns left over from last night.

Shane does the usual tacky, not worrying about any body else, on the couch kissing with Tully, high as a kite, rutting. It is to be expected.

Sam said he had to agree that I was a nicer person when I am stoned.