Hanging Out

I shamefully decided to call Trent and Nate. Shamefully, as I hadn’t seen them since the Gold Coast trip, now, when was that, last November? And I was only dropping in, calling them, because I was hanging out for a choof.

I thought of Paddy and I thought of Chad, but that would have involved driving somewhere. Nyr? Why make things complicated?

I had been meaning to call Trent and Nate for, I don’t know how long, since November, I guess. 

And I could walk to their place. 😀

I was twiddling my fingers at home, what to do, what to do? Ah! Too much time to think. I clearly, I needed a smoke to calm myself down to enjoy doing nothing. It was as obvious as the nose on my face! Tits on a bull! Oh, no, that’s as useful as. 

They didn’t know that was the reason I was dropping over. Although, Nate would probably guess.

Trent and Nate are off to Thailand on Friday, apparently. They seem to be discovering travel, just lately. Where had they just come back from? I should pay more attention.

“We got a good deal,” said Trent. “So why not.” He shrugged and made big eyes.

“I have some growth in my ear that I think is affecting my hearing,” said Nate. “I hope the plane ride won’t worry it.” He sounded worried about it. 

“It’s a package,” said Trent. “How could we refuse.” He backhanded Nate on the arm. “You’ll be fine, Debbie Downer.”

“I’m sure it would probably turn out to be nothing. I said to Nate. You know, as you say, with absolutely no evidence.

No pot, though, that became apparent pretty quickly after I arrived. Nate was out, or Trent was making him abstain, or something. Maybe it was the ear.

“You want a Chardy,” said Trent? Of course he did. You have to just about surgically remove the wine glass from his hand now a days, and yet he forbids Nate a smoke?

I headed home, pretty quickly, I didn’t stay. No, not as soon as I realised there was nothing to smoke, no, not that soon, even though I wanted to. That would have been far too obvious. No, I chatted a bit. 

I didn’t chat too much, just enough to be polite and not have my intensions become glaringly apparent. But, my mission was done there, way before it seemed polite to leave. While I love Trent and Nate, loved living with Trent and Nate once, without the bong being offered to me every so often,[2011] as it used to be,[02/11/2025] well, as shameful as you might think this admission is, why would I be there? 

I know, what a bitch, blah, blah, blah, but the truth is sometimes harsh, they are far less interesting, let’s face it, if I am stone cold sober.

And as it turned out – do I have to admit to the possibility of a god after all – Scott arrived, soon after I got home. I hadn’t been home 10 minutes when the doorbell sounded.

“You doing anything?” asked Scott, standing on the other side of my front door when I opened it.

“No,” I said.

He handed me a larger than normal plain white envelope open at one end. “Well, roll this into something, will ya.” 

I smiled to myself, as I spied the gunger inside that envelope.

As if my self-focused, contact of old friends for ulterior motives counted for nothing, I was, actually, being rewarded with the universe providing. Lovely. It’s a pretty charmed life when I think about it. Hey?

There you have it. Ask and you shall receive, or some shit like that.

“Do you have cigarettes?” I asked.

“No,” said Scott. “I told you I quit.”

I’d quit too. So, momentarily, it was awkward.

I had to go around to the shops. The universe couldn’t have provided what is the least expensive part of the whole operation, you know, while it was at it? Go figure. Still, it was the least I could do, even if my feet were hurting from all the walking, I had already done, chasing this shit. Ha ha, all my walking.

Scott, and I, sat on the wicker chairs on the back veranda, smoking spliff after spliff, talking shit about the world.

“Life is good,” I said.

“Yeah, pretty good with me too,” said Scott.

“You wouldn’t be dead for quids, now would you.”

“No, not for a second,” said Scott. “Not for anything.”

We gazed out into the garden, out into the world.

“I went to Trent and Nate’s this arvo to bot a smoke off them.”

“Oh,” said Scott. “So, you had stated before I go here.”

“No, Nate didn’t have any.”

“Oh,” said Scott. “Fuck!”

“Fuck hey,” I said.

“Is Trent still possessive of Nate?”

“Yeah, I reckon that’s why Nate was out.”

“Why?”

“Because Trent stopped him from getting any.”

“Trent has always controlled that boy’s life.”

“I couldn’t stand it myself.”

“Nah, me either.”

Scott looked at me. I looked at him. Scott kept looking at me.

“What?”

“Arthritis?”

“What?

“Have you rolled another one?”

“No, not yet,” I said.

“Well,” said Scott. “What’s stopping you?”

“Oh, dunno,” I said. “Waiting for you to give me the nod, I guess.”

“What?” he said. Quizzical look.

“Yeah, I dunno.”

“You got somewhere else you gotta be?”

“Nah, no plans.”

“Well, go on, get rolling.”

“Your wish is my command.”

I rolled a roach.

Scott just gazed at me.

I opened my joint rolling machine and inserted the roach.

“So, there you go. If you want some sort of moral to this story, I guess it would be, um, er?” I laughed. “Get to and bot off your friends, because even if they can’t provide what you need, the universe will hear you and it will provide where others fall short.”

I poured the mix into the machine next to the roach.

Scott was still looking at me.

I pulled a paper from my rolly papers and licked it.

“Do you like that?” I said.

“A lot of yap,” said Scott.

I inserted the licked paper into the machine.

“You got that joint rolled?” asked Scott. “I’m gaggin’ over here.”

I clicked the cigarette rolling machine shut and a perfectly rolled joint popped out

“Voila,” I said. I held the freshly minted joint in the air. 

“Well, it’s no good to anyone unlit,” said Scott. “Would you care to do the honours.”

“I would care indeed,” I said.

I flicked the lighter, the white cigarette burned red at the far end. I sucked the herby tasting smoke into my lungs. I took 2 more drags then I handed it to Scott.

Scott took the joint from my fingers. “You are a prince among men,” he said. He puffed on the joint. He blew the smoke into the air. Then he turned and looked at me. “Why aren’t you rolling the next joint?”

“Oh, yes, I’m on it.”

“Idle fingers are the devil’s, um, er…” said Scott.

“Work,” I said.

“Work,” said Scott.

“I’ve always said that,” I said.

We both laughed.

Scott handed the joint back to me.

The afternoon was warm and serene.

“Why does Nate stay with Trent?”

“I don’t know? Daddy issues?”

“More like mummy issues with Trent.”

“Claws, Scott, claws.”

“Oh well, he is so controlling, he is like Nate’s mother. And he’s got fat.”

“They’ve both got fat.”

“I guess they are happy then,” said Scott.

“Or co-dependant lazy?”

“Does Trent still drink like a…”

“Fish?”

“Yeah?”

“I think so.”

“You know, it is so goddam lucky we are perfect, hey?” said Scott.

“Or we’d never be able to say the things we say.”

“Never.”

“No.”

“That would be the worst?”

“The worst.”

“Actually, living with Trent would be the worst.” Scott laughed.

“Not being able to make fun of it would be the second worst.”

We both laughed.

“Poor fucken Nate.”

“He’s got fat, you say?”

“Yep.”

“That poor fucken astonishingly handsome boy.”

“Not any more.

“Not anymore?”

“Trent offering me wine as a substitute for smoke was the worst.”

“See, you can never trust them if they fucken drink.”

“Nate has complained about that in the past.”

“And he is right to. Drunks, who can live with them, I ask you.”

I hold the next joint in the air.

“Light the fucken thing,” said Scott. “Jesus man!”

I light it, puff on it and then hold it out to Scott. “Here’s to friends,” I said.

Scott takes the joint from me. “To good friends.”

“To good friends,” I said.

“To Trent and Nate,” said Scott.

“To Trent and Nate.”

“To Trent, long may Nate sail in her.”

We both laughed.