Sunday, June 09, 2013

Just the Two of Us

I had a dream, it was all about the houses of my friends from my teenage years. I called Angela McKenzie living at Rob Street (where Leah lived) when I meant to call Red Avenue (where David and Alex lived). The two phone numbers for Rob Street and Red Ave were very similar, and Angela, the new owner of Rob Street and I discussed my mistake. She seemed very nice, we had a long chat about the old group of friends.

Then the old group of friends, were all meeting at a picnic somewhere. I was standing with Adam, in a gravel car park between two roads, which ran off in a V shape, both of which were lined by Victorian shops and trees on the other side to the park, waiting for the others to arrive. I think it was Yarra Glen. Maybe?

WTF? I thought as I sat up in bed in the morning.

Sam and I got up and ate pizza toast, Sam cooked. He’ll make up anything to avoid cereal, he just won't eat it, which of course I don’t mind, it means there is always cereal for me when I want it. There was a shortage of cheese and my coffee pot is now failing. The toast was nice, despite its failings and the coffee was okay, despite the lack of it. The toast was a little dry and the coffee pot won’t percolate completely as its seal is fucked. It seems to let steam escape which is so violent that the lid pops open, so you get an explosion followed by what sounds like a gun shot, which is somewhat disconcerting when I am waiting for my morning hit. The toast was tasty, despite it all.

The milk had an expiry date of today.

I spoke to Anthony who is back in hospital with pancreatitis. He had left a message on my answering machine when I came to last Friday. He said some odd things, like he’d been in hospital for a week. I am positive that I spoke to him just last Tuesday. He seems to be forgetting things.

He says he is going to be in hospital for a few days, he’s not really sure.

He wanted to call Julie Orante to apologise for him for standing her up last week, the mother of Anthony’s dead boyfriend, the two of them still stay in touch. So I called her. She and I have met several times, but not for quite a few years, the last time at her son Nick’s wedding. And before that with Angelo at her house, but a long time before. Like all mothers of dead children, one of her first questions was weather or nor I knew Angelo.

“Yes, I knew Ange quite well, he and I were friends.”

I laughed afterwards when I thought that I should have said to her, Ange and I used to party together, when he’d wear his white Calvin Klien undies and his near perfect bubble butt would drive all the boys crazy.

The next thing she asked was about me, Mark & Luke? I told he about Bolago in way of explanation.

But, Anthony had already called her and cancelled their coffee morning together, he seemed to have forgotten that too.

He did say that he had a self-medicator for morphine, perhaps that is the reason?

We got showered and dressed and walked to Victoria Street and ate Pho. The sun was shining, but it was brittle and weak, just enough to give your skin a slight warming if you stood in it. It was the day that I chose to walk on the sunny side of Langridge Street, instead of whining like a baby from sweating as walked. I’m usually like the little girl who wines about the nasty sun.

It was the first time in a long time that we have sat at the back of the pho shop. All the tables were taken, and sharing was in full swing. We sat across the aisle from a cute, early 20’s, blond boy, who had a more beefy, mid twenties, blonde boy sitting opposite him. The early twenties blond boy had a cute face with blemish free skin. The mid twenties blonde boy filled out his jumper well and had a noticeable bulge in his jeans. They both had on headphones and were concentrating on their iPhones. Something was clearly still working in my head, as I could imagine them both suddenly grabbing each other and pashing over the table. They’d have made good boy friends. I could see the mid twenties boy giving it to the younger boy, from behind, cuddle up in his arms. 
 You know, putting what was obviously a considerable snake in his pants to good use.

We went shopping afterwards, but I’d really had enough by that point. Sam refused to cut it short, or agree to catch a tram, and as he was weighing up the pros and cons of choi sum, garlic chives and coriander, I wandered off, outside to find me some of that gentle sun. My back hurt, as did my eyes, and my energy levels were wavering around a quarter of a tank, less. I spotted a seat across the road, on which some old wrinkle-faced nana was taking a moments rest break in her walk to death, and I sat next to her. I hoped that Sam would spot me from across the street as he came out of the shop, but just in case I rolled around on one hip so as to be able to do a queen wave in his direction when I saw him looking for me, as he would undoubtedly do.

He found me, I knew he was a clever boy.

We walked home dragging our feet a little, a lot. I complained, a little, okay, alot.

I managed to commandeer the couch and have a little nap. However, with Buddy and Sam faffing around like they do this was short lived. Although, it was, amazingly, like an hour, or two, while Sam prepared dinner.

But then I got, “Move over I am cold.” And Buddy jumping up on the couch to see what the two of us were doing. Then I heard, “Oh Chris Humfrey,” and the TV came on.

We ate dinner, Sam’s specialty, pork belly with eggs and choi sum with shrimp. Yum.

The Pro is still sitting on its side in a tray of rice by the fire. We have both given the on switch a push from time to time, but nothing. Sam gave the on switch a twiddle tonight, after which he turned around to face me oblivious to the screen of the Pro coming to life.

“Hey, hey, hey,” was all I managed.

It died pretty soon after, which could just be the battery, maybe, who knows, but it was on long enough for Sam to see that the screen appeared to be working completely normally, the apple logo appeared.

We watched Sunday Night, Sixty Minutes, cuddled up on the couch under the blanket, Sam and me. The latest in terrorist attacks had both news shows excitedly reporting for ratings. We’d spent the whole weekend together, just the two of us. We seem to be spending more and more time together just the two of us. Our other friends seem to be drifting to the wayside, fading away. Is this a bad thing, I wondered as Elementary played out on the TV. I like Lucy Liu, I decided. She’s cool. She seems to be able to play drama as well as comedy.

Graham Norton, had a huge cast of stars, so said Graham Norton. Will Smith and his cute son, who dad adorably kissed on camera. Bradley Cooper, who has been on Graham Norton more times than any other star. Do you think Graham fancies him? Heather Graham. Michael Douglas.

Just me and Sam. He and I. The two of us against the world. I guess that is a good thing. Shrug. Why question it, if you like it.

We went to bed at 11pm. Sam promised that I could write on my computer in bed and he even said he wouldn’t complain. That lasted about half an hour before he was saying, “Switch it off.” Apparently, I had enough time to write whatever it was I wanted to write.

“But, down stairs you said you wouldn’t complain.”

The look.

Silence.


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