A Little Work, A Big Dinner

I am sitting on my balcony at 8.09am writing this having a cigarette. Sam has left and I am about to leave. Just thought I’d mention that it is a sunny day with a cloudy sky.

Gotta luv walking out the door at 8.20am. Get to work 8.35am. Sit out the front and have a last smoke, as the world passes by. Watch the world pass by, office chicks, guys in suits, delivery guys in shorts. 

It was an easy day. The computers worked almost immediately. You have got to love that. James came over this morning and fixed them for us. He has a handsome face and an interesting smile. He’s like an Asian version of Nicholas, my old house mate. Somehow his facial expressions are the same.

I did figures for most of the day, getting stuff finished that, dare I say, Kirin never manged to get done. 

It wasn’t until 4pm that the computers went off air again, as Guru Greta, the consultant from my accounting firm, tried to fix the new GL options codes, which she had renewed but hadn’t got them the same in all databases. (roll of the eyes)

Sam sent me photos of the bulldog puppy he had found on the TradingPost online, to buy. She is a girl and she is in Sale. She is brindle with a white chest and white flash over her face. She is beautiful.

I had to dash at 4.30pm, as it turned out I left 5 minutes early due to the computers not working. 

“Just go,” said Kirin. 

I had to get changed, feed Buddy, smoke a joint, or two, and head into the city to meet Sam for our seafood buffet dinner, at the Sheraton at the top of Little Collins Street. You know, date night. I smoked two joints, the second one in the front garden as I watered the plants, before wobbling off up Gertrude Street to the city. Moon walking, I call it. 

I met Sam at Big W, on the corner of Swanston and Bourke. Sad that that is our landmark. Meet you top of the Empire State Building, meet you in Piccadilly Circus, meet you The Place de la Concorde, meet you The Rijksmuseum, meet you Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore, meet you at The Spanish Steps, meet you Hoàn Kiếm Lake, no, none of that. Meet you outside Big W. 

Sam wanted to know if I had decided on Stella, if we were going to Sale on the weekend to get her.

The buffet wasn’t much as it turned out, nothing seemed very fresh, or very tasty. The Sheraton is new and small, nothing like the once glamorous Sheraton on Southbank. The food was old and small and nothing like the lavish sea food banquets I’d eaten before.

It was still light as we crossed Spring Street and headed up MacArthur Street home.

We were in bed early. I can’t stop thinking about Stella too. But it wouldn’t be like having another Buddy, calm, fits right in, is so easy to look after, he is a dream. Stella is a 15 week old puppy, she will spin, piss, twirl, chew and destroy for twelve months, at least. When I think about having two bulldogs, I think about having two Buddys, but it wouldn’t be like that. 

I have trouble getting past Stella’s cuteness, her little squishy nose.

I turn to Sam in bed and say, “I think when it is just Buddy there are three of us. I think if we got another bulldog it could become two bulldogs and their carers. I think we should stick to one bulldog.”