Bad behaviour, drinking again, like it is a thing, you know
they say it all surprised, like it had never happened before.
"Oh, dear god!" applause. “Someone get that fool a drink!”
And then there is your red wine mouth, you looked like a ghoul the last time you looked up. It surprised me, took me back. I was taken aback. I jumped, well, double took.
And all I could think of was the last time, and
red wine poo? It makes the poo paper look like gravely liquorice, I always think. Translucent Black. (good name for a band) A smear of trendy half muted, mat finish midnight strain.
Who looks? I know I always look. Do you? Does everyone admit to that? Looking at the crap you have just wiped from your arse? Don’t you have to look, so you know when to stop wiping? You don’t want to wipe the skin away. You want to be able to sit down whenever the mood takes you. I don’t suppose ladies admit to such things in polite company. (Most ladies would have you believe they don't shit at all)
It makes your vomit turn pink, (red wine, not poo)
Let me hold your hair back, as your mood turns grim,
your breath stinks, and there is all that drool down your chin,
get in water and you sink, oh no, we would not recommend that,
you can’t swim, you shouldn’t even try, glug, glug, glug, glug,
because as they say, it’s a good way to die. Cheaper than a Swiss clinic on the fly, though, I might just add.
And yet, we are all practically congratulated for downing some red plonk. A bottle, or two? An afternoon hard at it. A goon bag with a straw up a laneway with the headlights still blazing. It is amazing, how any of us got through our teenage years.
“More wine fella?”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
“I think it might help to relax you.”
“And forget.”
“Forget?”
“My premonitions…”
“Inhibitions?”
“Oh, no,” And he belched loudly. “I definitely saw that coming.”
“But you didn’t forget.”
“Forget what?”
“The night?”
“How we got here?”
“It’s queer…”
“Maybe, but I’d need more beer.”
“More beer?”
“To do things I swear I do not.”
“But, that’s all we got?”
“All we got…”
“You and me.”
“Oh, I see.”
“You see?”
“What did you forget?”
“How much chardonnay we got?”
“But we’ve been drinking red wine since Annie fell down and had to be poured into a cab.”
“Oh that Annie, never could manage a full night.”
“Not like you and me.”
“Not like you and me.”
“If my shit ain’t black by the morning, I’ll know we just didn’t try hard enough?”
“Hard enough?”
“Pour me another drink.”
“Another drink.”
“I want to see the sun come up from under the sink.”
“Under the sink?”
“It’s an expression we said as kids.”
“You used to drink as a kid?”
“Didn’t everyone?”
“No, not me…”
“How did you cope with Uncle Brian Smart’s wandering hands?”
“I closed me eyes and thought of Mario.”
“Mario?”
“Super…”
“Oh.”
“It’s me, and all that.”
“I’d do anything to take all of that back.”
“Nah, not me. It taught me things I didn’t know were true.”
“Things that were true?”
“That so many people weren’t always what they seemed.”
“Not what they seemed?”
“Yeah. People could be many things all at once.”
“So many things, you don’t say.”
“And all are equally true.”
“Hard way to find out.”
“I don’t know. He gave me money I wouldn’t otherwise have had.”
“Get a paper round.”
“Nah, it was easier that way. Not so bad, anyway. Think of England.”
“I don’t know about that?”
“More wine?”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
“Hold out your glass.”
“We should go watch the sun rise?”
“Are we under the sink, yet?”
“Another couple of these and I will be, don’t know about you?”
“Oh, I got my head in the cupboard looking around, that’s for sure.”
“See, you get it.”
“Yeah, not so hard to get.”
“I love the sunrise, what about you?”
“Yeah, sure, why not. It’s a thing of beauty.”
“It puts your life in perspective…”
“Perspective?”
“Over and over again.”
“Every morning, I guess.”
“Every morning, if you take the time to witness.”
“Can I get a…”
“See, you get it.”
“Cheers.”
“To all the queers.”
“To all the girls we’ve loved before.”
“To coming home at dawn.”
“To a mother’s love.”
“To a father’s hug.”
“To the new morn.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
“I’ll drink to that too.”
“Let’s head outside.”
“More beer?”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get me drunk?”
“I’m just trying to enhance your experience, to make it as nice as it can be.”
“Is that what they call it now?”
“Shut up and drink it down.”
“Shut up and drink.”
“That’s all you gotta do honey.” He made his eyes big and smiled that dopey smile of his. You know, kind of exaggerated.
“I can feel it when I move.”
“Are we there yet?” he laughs.
“I’m getting there, I have to admit it.”
“That’s what I want to hear.”
“Ah, look at that.”
“The beginning of a new day, right there in front of us.”
“We’re experiencing it for the first time.”
“Together.”
“This moment will never come again.”
“Never.”
“In the whole history of the entire planet, this is it, this is the moment.”
“It makes me want to cry.”
“That’s the booze going down.”
“Will you hold me?”
“You’ve got broad shoulders, my arm hardly fits around them.”
“It feels nice.”
“Wow! Look at those colours.”
“Look at those colours.”
“The colours of creation.”
“The closest I usually get to that is my cum on the sheets early Sunday morning after a session in the front bar down the Labour In Vain.”
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it.”
“It sure is.”
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