and you spent so much time in this bar during your marriage that after you left it, you thought you may as well move in. Am I right?’
‘What are you, a fuckin’ detective?’
‘I love the idea of being a detective. Can I see your room? If you showed me it, I could tell you things about yourself by looking around at the things you own. I’m good at that.’
‘You won’t tell me anything I don’t know already, and I don’t have much stuff.’
‘I could still tell you things.’
‘OK, one time I’ll show, but it’ll be a warning to you.’
‘What?’
He didn’t answer. He just looked at me again for long enough to make me feel uncomfortable. I decided that then would be a good time to show off my trick. I jumped down from my seat and went to the pool table. I put my hands on the end of it, gripping the edge, and leant forward taking my weight on my arms and chest, and lifted my legs slowly up until my body was perfectly horizontal.
‘Look!’ I shouted, getting the attention of almost everyone at the bar.
‘Very impressive,’ said Mac sarcastically.
‘I’m strong, you know?’ I said, pleased with myself.
‘I don’t doubt it,’ he said.
I lowered myself back down, winked at him and headed to the toilets. I felt buzzy and warm and fairly happy. I was carving out a life in Sydney, having only landed a few weeks before, and felt pretty pleased with myself. I had a way of making cash with no need for an alarm clock (one of my main aims in life) and some people to drink with, plus my interest in Anaya to keep me from getting bored. I could perhaps settle in Sydney, making trips away every once in a while to continue with my investigation. Who knows, maybe I’d stay for ever. I could marry someone and get a passport. Fate had led me here and it would all take shape eventually. I felt confident and relaxed about my journey, untouchable, unreachable and numbed by the drink.
I sat on the toilet wondering about things, and whether I wanted to have sex with Mac or not, and what he was to me. I had only just met him, but had those feelings I’d had before with various others, of accelerated intimacy despite very little conversation or time together. I had been close to an older man in the past; he was a newsagent I had worked for as a teenager. At the time he’d acted as a bit of everything for me, particularly when my useless father was absent from our lives. But it hadn’t lasted long.
Was I going to have sex with Mac? I wondered. I wasn’t sure but thought it was inevitable at one point. Then I thought about the group and put them in order of shagability. That fucking annoying Anaya would be up the top for some reason that I couldn’t work out, and Scotty down the bottom. I put Jim in second place, but knew I felt something different for him than the others. I flushed and left the cubicle.
Tonight I wanted to get absolutely bladdered. I wished Anaya had stayed and drank with me. Perhaps I could have told her why I was here, though why she would possibly be interested, I had no idea. But I just felt warmth for everyone when I had a drink in me. Warmth and hope. It was, after all, hope that I’d find the answers that I was looking for that kept me going. If I thought about it too much, I would sink down, and I didn’t want that. I was in a world full of strangers, so I would take what I could get, and right now I wanted to get shit-faced with someone interesting and willing. Money was tight, but it had never stopped me before.
I saw a Tampax machine on the wall. I opened the door to the toilets and checked that no one was coming. I had to be quick. I was breaking one of my rules: don’t shit on your own doorstep. If this was going to be my local, then this was going to have to be the one and only time I do this here. The coast was clear, so I got underneath the machine, then pushed it upwards with my shoulder until it came off its hinges. I carried it into the cubicle and locked the door. I
‘What are you, a fuckin’ detective?’
‘I love the idea of being a detective. Can I see your room? If you showed me it, I could tell you things about yourself by looking around at the things you own. I’m good at that.’
‘You won’t tell me anything I don’t know already, and I don’t have much stuff.’
‘I could still tell you things.’
‘OK, one time I’ll show, but it’ll be a warning to you.’
‘What?’
He didn’t answer. He just looked at me again for long enough to make me feel uncomfortable. I decided that then would be a good time to show off my trick. I jumped down from my seat and went to the pool table. I put my hands on the end of it, gripping the edge, and leant forward taking my weight on my arms and chest, and lifted my legs slowly up until my body was perfectly horizontal.
‘Look!’ I shouted, getting the attention of almost everyone at the bar.
‘Very impressive,’ said Mac sarcastically.
‘I’m strong, you know?’ I said, pleased with myself.
‘I don’t doubt it,’ he said.
I lowered myself back down, winked at him and headed to the toilets. I felt buzzy and warm and fairly happy. I was carving out a life in Sydney, having only landed a few weeks before, and felt pretty pleased with myself. I had a way of making cash with no need for an alarm clock (one of my main aims in life) and some people to drink with, plus my interest in Anaya to keep me from getting bored. I could perhaps settle in Sydney, making trips away every once in a while to continue with my investigation. Who knows, maybe I’d stay for ever. I could marry someone and get a passport. Fate had led me here and it would all take shape eventually. I felt confident and relaxed about my journey, untouchable, unreachable and numbed by the drink.
I sat on the toilet wondering about things, and whether I wanted to have sex with Mac or not, and what he was to me. I had only just met him, but had those feelings I’d had before with various others, of accelerated intimacy despite very little conversation or time together. I had been close to an older man in the past; he was a newsagent I had worked for as a teenager. At the time he’d acted as a bit of everything for me, particularly when my useless father was absent from our lives. But it hadn’t lasted long.
Was I going to have sex with Mac? I wondered. I wasn’t sure but thought it was inevitable at one point. Then I thought about the group and put them in order of shagability. That fucking annoying Anaya would be up the top for some reason that I couldn’t work out, and Scotty down the bottom. I put Jim in second place, but knew I felt something different for him than the others. I flushed and left the cubicle.
Tonight I wanted to get absolutely bladdered. I wished Anaya had stayed and drank with me. Perhaps I could have told her why I was here, though why she would possibly be interested, I had no idea. But I just felt warmth for everyone when I had a drink in me. Warmth and hope. It was, after all, hope that I’d find the answers that I was looking for that kept me going. If I thought about it too much, I would sink down, and I didn’t want that. I was in a world full of strangers, so I would take what I could get, and right now I wanted to get shit-faced with someone interesting and willing. Money was tight, but it had never stopped me before.
I saw a Tampax machine on the wall. I opened the door to the toilets and checked that no one was coming. I had to be quick. I was breaking one of my rules: don’t shit on your own doorstep. If this was going to be my local, then this was going to have to be the one and only time I do this here. The coast was clear, so I got underneath the machine, then pushed it upwards with my shoulder until it came off its hinges. I carried it into the cubicle and locked the door. I
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