Posted by ColdHarbour
on Mon 23 Jun 08, 1:49 PM to ColdHarbour's blog.
There is a tree just outside my bedroom window. It is the favourite haunt of a male blackbird — a very LOUD blackbird. What I mean is that, with a blackbird like that singing to greet the rising sun, who needs insomnia?
Not I, that's for sure! Sleeping pills? Maybe! A shotgun? At 4:30am on a Sunday morning, definitely tempting! In the event, however, yesterday morning I settled for black coffee and a cigarette, sat at my desk, and spent the next several hours trying to work up the enthusiasm to work on a couple of projects I've had simmering on back-burners for so long, I'm surprised they've not set off the smoke-alarm!
So I sat and stared dutifully at the computer screen, and the computer screen sat and stared back. I had more caffeine. I had more nicotine. The computer screen carried on staring. Then, at noon exactly … Well, being a good, solid professional, I am happy to slog away at even the most stubborn projects for as long as it takes. However, contrary to popular belief, I'm really not much of a sadist so, after more than seven hours of just staring, I decided to put the staring computer screen out of its misery and went to the pub so the sun could have a stare at me instead.
That was … I'm not sure. Let's say long enough ago to remind me of the hazards of basking in hot sunshine while drinking and smoking outside pubs — especially pubs on picturesque river banks next to footbridges that lead from a certain local supermarket to a certain council estate.
My friend said: “So where the fuck you been, you miserable old cunt?!!”
I said: “Happy Christmas! And Happy Easter! It's good to see you again as well.”
She said: “You forgot my birthday!”
I said: “Happy birthday!”
She said: “Too fucking late now. You'll have to wait until next February. But I will let you buy me a birthday drink to make up for it!”
I said: “Only if you buy me one for my birthday last October. I'm skint!”
She said: “I see you still know how to show a girl a really good time. So where you been for the last six months? I been worried! Here's me thinking you must of popped your clogs or something.”
I said: “Not yet! And no immediate plans to, so you can stop worrying.”
She said: “So … oh, bloody hell! Oh fuck! You never, did you?”
I said: “Never what?”
She said: “You did, didn't you! Dirty old bugger! I mean … So when you going to introduce us?”
I said: “What? Have you been out in the sun for too long or …”
She said: “Come off it! I know you! There's only one thing I can think of that would keep you disappeared for so long. So what's her name? Where did you meet her? How long you two been shacked up together? Or you back to having more than one at a time?”
I said … nothing! I was too busy gaining fresh insight into how a computer screen must feel being stared at by a human, as if being stared at was all I needed to be goaded into action.
She said: “Oh Gawd! Oooops! Sorry, I forgot! You don't talk about your kinky ones, do you. She is, isn't she! I mean …. you know … one of your whatsnames … slave girls. Go on! I promise I won't tell nobody! I can be very discreet, you know!”
I said: “I know! But be as indiscreet as you like. Be my guest! There's nothing to tell.”
She said: “What you mean, nothing? But I thought …. Fuck a duck! Don't tell me you still not got fucking laid yet!”
I said: “That's not what you asked. You asked if I was living with slaves and the answer is no. Just cockroaches! Sorry! But look on the bright side! Just think how much I've just saved you on batteries! Enough for you to buy me that birthday drink, I imagine, knowing how you wear them out.”
She said: “Shut up! I don't! Well … it broke if you must know so I don't need batteries at the mo, thank you very much!”
I said: “Then mine's a pint of cider!”
She said: “Tell me where you been all these months first!”
I said: “That's easy! I've been busy — busy going broke! Dead computers and one too many bad debts!”
She said: “Oh fuck! I'm sorry!”
I said: “Quite! Me too!”
She said: “So what you up to now?”
I said: “Looking for a proper job! Nothing else I can do. I'm out of work and on the dole. So … I've got enough to buy myself another half if you can't afford a pint and want company.”
She said: “Take your fucking hand out of your pocket. If you're going to play with yourself in front of me, the least you can do is get it out proper and let me watch. What was it you wanted again? Cider?”
I said: “Are you sure?”
She said: “No! I'm Doris fucking-Day! Course I'm sure! Only seeing as how I'm going to have to buy you drinks all afternoon to save me going home, you do got to promise to do something for me in return.”
I said: “Does it involve me getting my cock out for you?”
She said: “Shut up! No! You're making me blush now. Course it don't mean ... Well, you can if you want. I just meant I do miss reading your weblog thingies. They make me laugh! Tell you what! Write a nice new one for me and we'll call it quits. We'll just say me getting you drunk is payment. Okay?”
I said: “Okay! Deal!”
So …. One weblog as promised! Debt paid! If only my other creditors were as easily pleased!
