Today is lovely as well... I was watering the pots in the nude this morning... me was in the nude... not the pots...
First up, the concierge was asking me about my extension number. I grimaced and said I didn’t know. He wanted to put a call through to me and wasn’t so please with my answer, I don’t think. We finally got the number and he tried to put it through and it didn’t work. It didn’t work a second time, to some annoyance of the concierge. He didn’t say anything, he smiled the whole time, but I could pretty much tell from the way he thrust his mobile phone into my hand.
All the time I hadn’t cottoned on, I remind fairly oblivious throughout proceedings, I was just aware that there was some sort of angst happening around me. Do you think it had anything to do with the pot I had smoked over the weekend?
All I got was, You’re Christian Fletcher. I had only just got there, I hadn’t spoken to anyone as yet, you know, not in coherent sentences.
Anyway, suddenly I had a mobile in my hand, just as all the, as they say, pennies fell into place, “Oh… thank you.”
“Hi Christian, it’s Jill, I’ve got the day off and want to have lunch with you.”
“Oh… um…” Good grief! “No… I can’t.” I’d have to call Sam and cancel, to and fro, to and fro. “I don’t get a lot of time for lunch.”
“Oh… okay then.”
Hang up.
Now, it wasn’t quite that abrupt, but something like it. I got a coffee and changed the surroundings. When I got back to my desk I thought, I’ve got to stop doing that, saying no when, for whatever reason, it feels too hard.
I picked up the phone and called Jill. “Hey… um… sorry. I get half an hour for lunch, I meet Sam on the corner of Bourke and Swanston streets, at 12.30. Can you be there by 12.30?”
“Yes,” said Jill. “Sure I can.”
“You wont be late?”
“No.”
“See you at 12.30.”
I felt like a cigarette. I was trying to scheme how to have it before lunch, before I saw Sam and Jill. As I walked over to the 7 11 pondering, and I sized up the power pole for some shelter, I thought fuck it! I’m an adult. And I promptly bought a packet of Styvos. Lit it in broad day light and Marched down Bourke Street. I smoked it as I walked up to Jill.
“You are smoking?” She sounded incredulous. Big mouth.
“Mark and Luke have been and I’ve been smoking pot and… voila!”
“I bought you these,” said Jill. “Take no notice of the prices as marked, I got them cheap.”
She has been walking her credit card across the internet again. I’d say it was an addiction, but I heard an immanent group of doctors say there was no such thing as addiction, just excuses for bad behaviour. The vast majority of people get over what they once called an addiction.
Sam walked up next.
“Both here, Christian smoking,” said Jill.
Sam looked at the cigarette in my hand and then he looked at me without changing the expression on his face. “Very impressive,” he said deadpan.
It was the first time since I have been back at work that I sneaked out and had an afternoon smoke. Wow! Is that even legal anymore?
Somehow I felt guilty about it all afternoon, in case (colleague’s name) smelt the smoke on me. But, she said her partner smoked, so she may not differentiate. Hopefully.
Guilty. Paranoia. Energy. Flowing.
Christian
5:48 PM
Nude
pot, you say
Mark
5:49 PM
no
silly...
5:49
PM
i
was nude...
5:50
PM
nuddy...
without clothes'es
Christian
5:50 PM
he
he he
5:51
PM
not
in Hanoi, now, hey
Mark
5:55 PM
no...
whaaah… i miss them all sooooo much
Christian
5:56 PM
You're
luck, you have the best of both worlds
Mark
5:56 PM
yes
I do… aren't I spoilt…
Shane and Tuli were on the couch in the lounge room when I got home. There was no tell tale smell of smoke in the air, they were eating oranges, for God’s sake. They were looking deep into one another’s eyes. I made a cup of tea and headed to my room, keen for a splif.
You know when you have smoked a shit load of dope, the wanking starts.
I made spaghetti Bolognese, with the left over of Luke’s Bolognese sauce. I know Mark says it all the time, but I think it was the nicest Bolognese sauce I have ever tasted.
I emailed him and asked him for the recipe, I’m sure he will answer, a bit of this a bit of that, surely I don’t need to give you a recipe for Bolognese, Christian?
I must start learning Tai Chi again. Apparently, it is good for you when you are old... and I'm feeling old. I used to do it when I was a teenager and I loved it. It shouldn't be hard to pick it up again. Surely. And need to do some exercise, I'm getting really fat.
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