You Know, Maybe My Thinking Has Changed

It's monogamy this time, though? I'm for it. Have someone special, someone to connect with. Connected sex is always the best.

I like having someone regular, someone I connect to. 

It was quantity in my 20s with Gareth. We got around the two of us. Every Saturday night we’d be out picking up some guy, all three of us screwing until the sun came up. Boy, did we push it.

But I loved Gareth Lloyd a little bit more every Sunday.

But, 10 years of that, I think we wore it out. Gareth moved to Sydney to complete his stalled medical degree

I liked it with Matteo, in my 30s he was the only person I slept with for years.

That isn't exactly true, but pretty much. Matteo wanted me to have threesomes, like I did with Gareth, but, you know, after all of that with Gareth, I was kind of over it. Matteo had sex with other guys and I didn't mind. It never cut into the time we had together. It never stopped us being together. It never stopped us doing things. It was an occasional thing. Matteo and I came first.

He often wanted to pick up other cute Italian guys with me, but mostly I turned him down. Not always, but often. 

After 10 years of that, Matteo Rossi met Marco Gallo and that was that.

But, you know, maybe my thinking has changed, now I am 40. Treat me as if I'm special, if that's what you say I am to you, and I'll do the same for you. I've told you how I want to play this time. Now, if you agreed.

I mean, we always agreed, Gareth, Matteo and me, and whoever is next will too.

You just have to know what you want. Some people say that is as hard as fining a 4 leaf clover, or chicken teeth, but I never found it to be so hard. You know what I mean?

I was chatting to Jamie. We’d met up at a bar for a mid week drink. We were talking about casual sex and relationships and life, you know, as you do.

“Oh, you have to admit, it’s more fun than running a stick across the metal bars of a fence when there is an angry dog in the yard.”

“Oh, it’s too easy.”

“Like taking chocolate from a baby.”

“Try taking chocolate from me.”

“You never know who you are going to meet.”

“That’s the fun?”

“Yeah, sure, that is the fun.”

“I’m not sure I am built to be so easy.”

“I like you. You like me. Let’s like each other together. Whatever we think that means? It’s that easy.”

“I’m not sure I think that is easy.”

“Catholic upbringing?”

“How did you know?”

“How did I know?”

“Yeah?”

“Wild guess.”

I was chatting to one of the lesbians when we were doing Gay telephone counselling training. Why was I doing gay telephone counselling training? My buddy Teddy wanted someone to do it with him, and I thought why not. My friends are always getting in my ear about their miserable relationships. Apparently, I am good at the advice. I wasn’t sure if I was going to do it, but I was happy to do the training with Teddy.

“You have an open relationship, is that what you are saying?” asked Ellen.

“Yes.”

“And how does that work?”

“Well. What do you mean?”

“Do you go out separately, or do you go out together?”

“We do it together.”

“So, there is always a 3rd person?”

“Yes, that’s how we do it.”

“Doesn’t that lead to jealousy?”

“No, quite the opposite really.”

“I’d be too jealous.”

“Well then you shouldn’t do it.”

“How do you not get jealous?”

“It brings us together, because we share something.”

“Brings you together?”

“Yes.”

“I just can’t see it.”

“I feel closer to my partner afterwards.”

“You feel closer?”

“Yes, closer and more in love.”

“I just can’t see how that works.”

“Well, it does.”

“I think the only way a relationship can work is through monogamy.”

“Well, if that works for you, that is great.”

“I can’t see how introducing another person into your relationship, makes it stronger.”

“Well, it does. We share something. We enjoy the experience. We both feel closer having shared it.”

“You don’t go and find other people on your own?”

“No.”

“Always together?”

“Always together.”

“Are partners easy to find if there is two of you.”

“Yes, sure, we don’t have any trouble. We always find someone.”

“Do you go out looking specifically?”

“Sometimes. Other times it just happens.”

“I just don’t think it would work for me.”

“Then it is great that you know what you want and what works for you.”

“I’m sceptical. I think only monogamy works in the long term.”

“Together for 10 years.”

“Ten years hey, that’s great.”

“How about you?”

“Oh, no, I am single.”

“You don’t have a partner.”

“No, I have just split up from my partner.”

“How come you split up?”

“I cheated on her.”

“You cheated.”

“Yes.”

“Was that your first relationship?”

“No, I have had a few.”

“And why did they end?”

“I pretty much cheat on all of them. You know.”

“They were your monogamous relationships?”

“Yes, of course, as I said, I only think relationships work with monogamy.”

After the training, I did shifts with Teddy.

A funny thing happened. A David kept changing the schedule, crossing out Teddy’s name and putting his name next to the shifts with me. I have no idea what that was all about, but I crossed out David and put Teddy back next to my name. Perhaps, he didn’t know Teddy and I were friends. It stopped after the second, or third time.

I met up with Matteo and Marco recently. And then the next day I met Gareth in the street. 

Matteo and Marco were wearing matching outfits and were finishing each other’s sentences.

“We’re going on a gay cruise around the Mediterranean,” said Matteo.

“It’s going to be fab,” said Marco.

“How long for?” I asked.

“For 4 weeks, it will be grand,” said Matteo.

“Sounds great.” Truthfully, I though being trapped on a cruise ship with a bunch of circuit queens for 4 weeks might just turn me a little homophobic. “Enjoy.”

They looked sickeningly happy, not my kind of happy, where you have a boyfriend and a life as well, but they just screamed hopelessly co-dependant kind of happy.

“We should catch up,” said Matteo.

“Yeah, we should. I have to go though, I’m meant to be somewhere.” I stepped past them.

“Shouldn’t we make…”

“Nice seeing you,” I said. I walked away without turning back.

I didn’t want to catch up with them, that was over, I couldn’t see any reason to revisit it.

I was suddenly face to face with Gareth in Chapel Street, after all these years. I rarely go to Chapel Street, but I’d been to visit my friend Jill, we’d been to Jimmy The Greek’s restaurant for lunch and I was just walking back to my car.

“Oh…” I said.

“Hey, um…” said Gareth.

He looked good, I have to admit. 

“Of all the gin joints in all the world…”

 “You had to stumble into this one,” he said.

I didn’t know what else to say. “You a doctor?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said. He scrunched his eyebrows adorably. “You know that.”

“Do I” I said? “You disappeared off to Sydney with some kind of idea about finishing your course.

“I had already applied, that’s why I went to Sydney.” He squinted his eyes just a little and turned his head just slightly side on to me.

“Yeah.” I smiled, he really looked good. “I knew that.”

“You a lawyer?” he asked. He had a cheeky smile.

“Very funny,” I said. “Still.”

“You got a boyfriend?”

“No,” I said. “How about you?”

“No,” he said. “I never got over you.”

“You what?”

He just smiled at me in return.

“What?” What did he just say?

“I’ve got to go, I am due somewhere.” He stepped past me.

“You still up in Sydney?”

“Am I?” He smiled and walked away.

“Are you?”

He held both his hands up in the air but walked away without looking back.

I stood there and watched his back walk away.

When I told Teddy about meeting up with Matteo and Gareth, Teddy sucked in breath and told me it meant something significant, although he was vague on the details of what that significant thing was.

“Things happen for a reason, Jarred,” he said.

“No, they don’t. It’s just a coincidence.”

“There is no such thing as a coincidence,” said Teddy.

“Yes, there is, they happen every day.”

Roly Meets Marie

Scott Tander and Roly Gregson were out jogging. It was hot, a hot summers day. Scott was running shirtless, Roly had a t-shirt on.

They were heading up G Street towards home.

"Hey, you know that chick in the milkbar I said was coming on to me," said Scott.

"The one with the husband and the kid?"

"Yeah, that's her," said Scott. "Well, she's just up here. Come in with me and tell me it’s not all in my head."

"Yeah, sure," said Roly. "Let's go."

They jogged up to the door of the shop. Scott grabs each side of Roly's t-shirt. "Take your shirt off."

“What?”

“Take it off,” said Scott. “That way there is an equal temptation to look…”

“What?” said Roly. “Equal… what?”

“She’s not just gonna look at me because I am shirtless, if we are both shirtless.”

“You are taking this a little too seriously…”

“Just take it off, will ya?”

"Sure, okay," said Roly. And he pulled his shirt off.

The two handsome friends were now standing on the footpath shirtless and glistening with sweat.

A girl walked past, her head turning back to gaze at the two boys.

"We're just getting a drink," said Scott. "You get the drink, I'll go to the counter and pay."

"Okay," said Roly. He laughed at the cheek of what they were doing.

"If her husband is there, don't worry, just play it cool."

"Okay," said Roly.

They head in the door. It is just Marie behind the counter.

“Oh, Mr Scott, look at you,” said Marie.

“Just out jogging, and I’m thirsty, its hot.”

“You are looking very… fit,” said Marie.

“Thanks,” said Scott. “I keep working on it.”

“Well, it is paying off.”

Roly walks up to the counter with the drink and stands next to Scott. “This is Roly my mate,” said Scott.

“Oh my, you are both looking very… fit,” says Marie.

Roly hands her the money for the drink.

“It’s hot work,” said Scott.

“I can see,” said Marie. “I can see. Hot for… both of you.”

Marie hands back the change. “Thank you.”

“Thanks Marie.’

The two boys walk out of the shop.”

Roly looks back from the door. Marie’s eyes are following them all the way.

Scott screws the cap off the bottle and gulps half the drink down. Then he hands it to Roly. Roly sculls the other half of the drink.

“Well, what do you think,” said Scott. He turned and start to run. His shirt tucked into the back of his waistband of his shorts.

Roly tosses the empty bottle in the bin and ran after Scott. Roly tucks his shirt into the back of the waistband of his shorts. “Nah, it’s not just in your head,” said Roly. “She’s gagging for it.”

Roly slapped Scott on the arse, and they started to gain speed.

“So, what do you think?” asks Scott.

“It’s a can of worms,” said Roly. “A can of worms.”

“Do you think she is pretty?” asked Scott.

“Pretty married,” said Roly. “Pretty married.”

“So, you don’t think…”

“No, I don’t think.”

“What?”

“No,” said Roly. “Just no.”

Marie

The Italian woman, at my local milk bar, flirts with Scott Tander. There's no doubt it – those eyes, that mouth, the way she runs her tongue around her teeth. She's got an older husband, maybe twenty years, and two young boys.

She smiles at Scott, in that way that isn't just about the milk he’s buying. She caress' her breasts absentmindedly. Well, not really, but Scott noticed, just lately, that her hand is always somewhere around her chest.

Today she caressed Scott’s hand, as she gave him the change. He kind of jerked his hand away, instinctively. Clearly, we're not supposed to touch now a days. Then she kind of smiled. Scott laughed nervously. And they paused, momentarily. It was a very weird energy. She ran her tongue around her teeth, just really subtlety, if it hadn’t been for the breast touching and the hand rubbing, Scott probably wouldn’t have thought any thing about it.

Sometimes, even as her husband is greeting Scott, she's making eyes at him.

Scott was happy to think that it was all in his own head. You know, maybe just a transference from him, at the times he is, should we say, toey. But now he has become aware of it, he thinks it's her. It kind of creeps him out, just a bit. Kind of? Not really. It amuses him, if he was honest. It makes him laugh, if anything. It’s a game. A game at the milk bar. His bright, open face creases into an amused smile, as often as anything else.

“Thanks Mrs K,” says Scott.

“Call me Marie,” she replies.

“Happy Australia Day.”

“Yes, yes,” says Marie. “You too.”

The Sun Shines

They catch the train to Flinders’ Street Station. Noone wants to be the designated driver.

“What’s the fucken point if you can’t drink?” says Scott.

They take the exit out to Swanston Street. 

The guys in town today all had their “boys” out. It is sunny and singlet tops are the order of the day. Andre and Scott have their singlets on. Black, and blue, is there some irony to that? 

Jackson with his muscles on display in his sleeveless t-shirt. 

Roly with his smiles and a tan. He’s shirtless carrying his t-shirt in his hand.

Roly’s hairy thighs, thick calves completely fill the legs in shorts. It’s a consequence of all his footy playing up the country with the Warracknabeal 1sts.

Andre’s another ex-footy player with his shorts stretched across his big, beefy butt and his claimed zero % body fat. (Translation 18% body fat in reality)

“Zero body fat my arse,” says Roly.

“No, my arse, mate,” says Andre, as he punches Roly in the arm.

They both laugh.

They cross the big pedestrian crossing over to Fed Square.

They walk as a group, as a pack, comfortable in a world where they are at the top of the food chain. If you were watching from behind, you’d be watching how Roly leads the way, just slightly and how Scott and Jackson and Andre walk in sync. Andre’s singlet and shorts. Scott’s singlet and jeans. Jackson’s loose chinos and sleeveless t-shirt. Roly’s hairy legs, calves and thighs. His bare torso and tight waist, with the elastic from his undies clearly on display

You just got to love it when the sun shines.

Girls ogle the four mates openly. Our boys notice and smile amongst themselves. One girl wolf-whistles. The boys can’t help but look back.

They are heading to the Yarra for a BBQ with the rest of the footy team.

“She was whistling at me,” says Jackson. “Clearly.”

“Funny how I heard the distinct sound Scott from the air from her lips,” says Scott.

“That was definitely Andre that you heard,” says Andre breathlessly.

"No way," says Scott. “She doesn’t like red heads, you can just tell.

“Fuck off,” says Andre.

“You guys,” says Roly.

They head across Princess Bridge. The sun sparkles on the surface of the Yarra River.

“It’ll be the first time we’ll see Dazza since the Carlos revelation,” says Scott.

“Oh yeah,” says Roly.

“What Carlos revelation,” asks Jackson.

“You know, pissed off girlfriend…” says Andre.

“Sienna?” says Jackson.

“Yeah,” says Scott. “She made it known who Dazza left her for.”

“Who did Dazza leave Sienna for?” asks Jackson.

“Carlos,” the three others say together.

“Dazza left Sienna for Carlos?” says Jackson.

“Yep, that’s what we’re sayin’,” says Scott.

“Well, what Sienna is sayin’,” says Roly.

“Carlos Leclerc?”

“So the…”

“bitter…”

“Story goes.”

“Is that true?” asks Jackson.

“Ah, who cares,” says Roly.

Jackson looks at Andre. “Well, I’ve never sucked Dazza’s cock, so how would I know,” says Andre.

“Yeah, I mean it’s not like he’s rogering Carlos on the footy field,” says Scott. “So, who fucken knows?”

The head down the stairs on the other side of the bridge and walk along the river.

“How do you know who does what to who?” says Jackson.

“That’s what you got from that?” asks Roly.

“What?” says Jackson.

“Nyr, who cares anyway, it doesn’t change who Dazza is,” says Scott

“Well, actually…” says Jackson.

“Okay, it…”

“Fundamentally changes who Dazza is,” says Jackson.

“Yeah, okay, but not how we feel about him,” says Scott.

“Unless you feel like you wanna…” says Andre.

“Oh, come on,” says Jackson.

“Well, you know, it doesn’t, actually, change who Dazza is…” says Roly.

“What do you mean?” says Jackson.

“Well, presumably, he was always, you know…” says Roly.

“A shirt lifter…” says Andre.

“Does anyone, actually, use that expression any more grandma?” says Roly.

“I don’t get it?” said Jackson.

Scott grabs the back of Andre’s shirt and pulls it out of the back of his shorts

“Oh,” says Jackson. He laughs. “That’s good.”

“Who cares anyway,” says Roly. “It’s the 21st century, not the 19th.”

“Yeah, right,” says Scott. “I can’t say I wouldn’t, you know, if the situation was, er, right.”

“You would?” asks Jackson.

Scott shrugs. “I dunno, getting off is getting off, and if there was no one else…”

“Yes,” says Roly. “How do you know, it’s no big deal.”

“You reckon it would be no big deal?” says Jackson.

“Nah,” says Roly. “Not really.”

“Yeah, it’s not like you aren’t really familiar with what they’ve got,” says Andre.

“I’m not saying I would,” says Roly.

“I’m not saying I would either,” says Andre.

“What are you saying?” says Jackson.

“Love and intimacy are hard to find, and who cares who someone finds it with…” says Roly.

“If they are lucky enough to find it,” says Andre.

“Yeah,” says Scott.

“Yeah,” says Roly.

They continue walking. They seem to be lost in thought, each of them.

“What about the showers?” says Jackson.

“What about them?” says Roly.”

“I don’t care about the showers,” says Scott.

“It’s a stupid argument,” says Andre.

“You think Dazza is gonna get his jollies looking at your arse?” says Scott.

“Yeah, well,” says Jackson.

“So, what if he does,” says Scott. “It’s not like you’ll ever know.”

“Who cares if he does,” says Andre. “What’s the big deal?”

“Yeah, I guess…” says Jackson. “Not like I’ll ever know. True.”

“Exactly,” says Roly. “What do you really care?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” says Jackson. “I’d never know anyway.”

“Unless, you wanna know,” says Andre.

“Fuck off,” says Jackson.

“There they all are,” says Scott. “Three BBQs down.”

“There’s Dazza, there with a beer with Mitch and Leo,” says Scott.

“Any sign of the girlfriend?” says Andre.

“Stop it,” says Roly.

“It’s a joke,” says Andre.

“Yeah, well, they may not think it is funny?” says Roly.

“Not yet,” says Scott.

“What do I say to him?” says Jackson.

“What you’d normally say to him,” says Scott. “It’s Darren.”

“How’s Carlos’ bum taste?” say Andre.

“Shut up Andre,” says Scott and Roly together.

“Hell, if you can’t make a joke about it,” says Andre. “What can you do?”

“Too soon,” says Scott.

“Too soon,” says Roly.

“Let the guys get used to it?’ says Scott. "Before you start taking the piss."

“I bet ya the guys don’t care,” says Andre.

The Arrangement

Andre met up with Ava at a school reunion. They hadn’t seen each other since leaving school. 

“You’ve clearly been going to the gym,” said Ava.

“Yeah, I have,” said Andre. “Do you go to the gym?”

“I do,” said Ava. “For cardio, though. I don’t do weight training, or that.”

“You should,” said Andre. “I’d be happy to give you guidance.”

“You’re sweet,” said Ava. “But that’s more of a boy thing, isn’t it?”

“No, not at all,” said Andre.

“I don’t want to get muscles,” said Ava. “You know.”

“You don’t have to get muscles.”

Ava smiled sweetly and looked Andre up and down, before she met up with some girlfriends from school, across the room.

Andre hung out with his mates after that.

Later in the night, Andre meets up with Ava again at the bar.

“What do you do now?” asked Andre.

“I’m a lawyer,” said Ava. “What about you?”

“I make films…”

“Films,” said Ava. “That sounds interesting.”

“Documentaries. I’m a documentary film maker,” said Andre. “Not feature films. People always think feature films.”

“Oh no, I think that sounds much more interesting,” said Ava. “Anything I’d know?”

“I made one on whales that was popular this year.”

“Not Giants of the Sea?”

“Yes, did you see it.”

“That was wonderful.”

“Yes, it turned out well.”

“Any others?”

“Hand to mouth…”

“About homelessness in the city?”

“Yes,” said Andre. “One on drones.”

“Eye in the Sky.”

“Yes. The Great Southern Land. And Hugo, about my favourite actor.”

“I’ve seen them all,” said Ava. “You are very clever. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks,” said Andre. “Makes a change to how you felt about me at school.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You hated me at school.”

“I never hated you.”

“You wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is so,” said Andre.

They drifted off to their respective groups with their drinks again after that.

Later in the night when they were both pretty drunk they bumped into each other again.

“Well, perhaps you weren’t as interesting, at school,” said Ava. “Or so damn hot.”

“You think I’m hot?” said Andre.

“You are,” slurred Ava. She waved her hands up and down Andre, “Who knew that this would all come.”

“I think you are hot too,” said Andre.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” asked Ava.

“No, no girlfriend.”

“Is that true?” said Ava.

“What? Why would I make that up?” said Andre. “I’d more likely lie about having a girlfriend, wouldn’t I? Wouldn’t that make me look better,” he slurred.

“Not if you think you are getting into my pants?”

“Am I getting into your pants?” questioned Andre.

“If you haven’t got a girlfriend?”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” asked Andre.

“No, I don’t have a boyfriend,” said Ava. She reached up and touched Andre’s hair. “I’ve always liked red-heads.”

Andre couldn’t help but smile. Ava Wallace and him, who’d have thought. “So?” he said.

“So?” repeated Ava.

“Do you want to come back to my place, in that case?” said Andre.

Ava must have been impressed with Andre.

“She wants a return visit,” said Scott. “That counts for a lot.

“She doesn’t want a boyfriend, she says she is too busy with her law career,” said Andre. “But she wants to hook up when either of us, you know, have a need.”

“That’s great,” said Jackson. “Best of both worlds.”

“She said she’s never had better sex,” said Andre. “She said she’d be keen to fuck again. No strings.”

“She said fuck again,” questioned Roly.

“Her exact words,” said Andre.

Jackson and Scott hi-fived. “Way to go Andre.”

“She loves red-heads,” said Andre.

“Well, it looks like you are the guy,” said Roly.

They had hooked up a few times since the reunion. And they had always had a good time. It turns out Ava really likes sex with Andre Ava whispered in his ear last time, “I love your red hair, and your big dick.”

Ava had just called Andre. She was really stressed out from work. She needed Andre to drop over to her place.

It was hot. Andre was in shorts and a tight t-shirt. He thought he looked hot. Ava, apparently, always thought Andre looked hot.

Andre rang Ava’s doorbell right on 7.30pm. Ava opened the door within moments.

“Hi,” said Andre.

“Hi.” Ava took Andre by the hand and led him to her bedroom.

“How are you?” asked Andre as Ava led him into her bedroom. Once in the bedroom Ava turned and start to kiss him.

“You okay?” asked Andre.

“Why? Do you ask that?” said Ava.

“I’m just trying to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk,” said Ava. She reached for Andre’s belt buckle and undid his pants.

“I’m good,” said Andre as his pants slid down his calves.

“Take you shoes off,” said Ava. She pulled her dress over her head to reveal she had nothing on underneath.

Ava reached for the cigarette packet, she offered it to Andre. “Do you want a smoke?”

“I don’t really smoke.”

“Okay.” Ava took the packet away.

“But I’ll have one with you,” said Andre.

“Oh,” said Ava. She offered the packet back to Andre. “I thought you said you didn’t smoke?”

“I don’t.”

“But you want one?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” said Ava.

Andre took a cigarette from Ava’s packet, then she did too. She lit Andre’s cigarette then she lit her own. They both took long puffs and then they both exhaled clouds of smoke at the same time.

“I used to smoke,” said Andre.

“Well, I hope you aren’t going to say I am leading you astray.”

“What? With the cigarettes?” Andre questioned.

“Yes,” said Ava. “With the cigarettes. What do you mean?”

“Oh nothing,” said Andre. I don’t mean anything.”

“No, come on, out with it,” said Ava.

“Nothing.”

“No, it’s something. What is it?”

Andre shrugged and puffed on his cigarette.

“Tell me,” said Ava.

“Oh, it’s just, um, maybe some conversation first would work for me.”

“Some conversation?” repeated Ava.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Really,” said Ava.

“Yeah.”

“Do you know what this is?” asked Ava.

“Yes,” said Andre. “No. Um. Yeah, sure. Why don’t you tell me?”

“It is a booty call, I think, is what most people would call it.”

“A booty call?”

“Yes, Andre, a booty call. Sex. A fuck. It’s good for relieving stress. Sometimes I need it. I thought you did too?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, good.”

“I just thought…”

Ava put her cigarette out. “Sorry, I have a dinner I have to get to.”

“Oh, okay,” said Andre.

Andre left Ava’s place without showering. As he walked up the street he got a message from Ava. Perhaps we shouldn’t see each other again.

Confession

I go out for a drink with my ex, Noah. We rarely do that, but we’d bumped into each other the other day and we made a date.

We go to a local bar. I meet Noah there.

We sitting at the tables in the back of the bar. All the tables are full, pretty much. It is kind of busy for a Thursday night.

Noah can really put the alcohol away, he always has, and when I am with him, I tend to as well. Mostly because Noah keeps buying me drinks.

I wouldn’t say that alcohol makes Noah loud, as he tends to be loud anyway, but alcohol makes him louder, sure.

We’d been talking about the dance parties we used to go to. And how much fun we used to have together. 

Noah comes out and says, “You have the best cock of all his boyfriends.” Just like that. Over the crowded bar. 

We’d had more than a few drinks by then. Noah says it loud enough for the couple next to us to look over. She smiles. He doesn't. She looks down at the front of my pants.

I stop myself from spontaneously covering my crotch. Just. Is that an instinct for protection?

I look at the couple. I try not to laugh. I look back at Noah.

“It's got just the correct amount of girth.” He smiles. He drinks his beer.

“Shhhh.” I put my finger over my mouth. I try not to blush. I can't. I don't know what to say. I stutter.

“What about your other boyfriends,” I ask.

“What about them?”

“Well, you know?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Did Michael Brown have…” I hold up my little finger. Michael brown was after me, and while I was attracted to his dark Italian’esque looks, he certainly made no secret of not liking me.

“You don’t expect me to confirm…”

“Yes, I do.” I held up my little finger again.

“Yes.”

“Yes, to? “Again, I held up my little finger.”

Noah nodded.

“I thought so. He was always way too aggressive, and for no reason.” I was please with that piece of news.

“Ah Michael,” says Noah.

“Ah, Michael,” I say.

“How’s Scott?” I ask. Noah’s current boyfriend, who I can take or leave. Just a little too opinionated is Scott for my liking.

“Scott is out of town.” Noah smiles again. Is his grin just a little wonky? Or is it the eye?

Good old Scott. Developer. Luckiest son of a bitch who ever lived. His first resort, up north, on entirely borrowed money, was a financial gold mine. 

Scott gets really antsy when Noah starts calling him Blake, whenever I'm around. Last time at his birthday weekend, I thought it had gone really well, I hadn't heard Noah call him the wrong name once. On the terrace, goodbye breakfast, Noah passes his fish dish to me, he can't finish it. “Give that to Blake... um... er...” he grimaces.

We stared at each other. Scott was behind me. I didn't want to move. Noah pushes the plate at me. I spin around and Scott is waiting with arms out and mouth open.

“This is for you,” I say.

“That's the eighth time I've counted, how about you?” I hand him the half-eaten plate of snapper.

“I hadn’t noticed.”

Noah doesn't find it funny when I bring it up over beers. I laugh about it.

“That's not funny.” He smiles. “Seriously, I've got to stop doing that. I tell you.”

At Noah’s last birthday, right at the end, I snuggled into him and danced dirty, just for a minute. Noah was drunk, Scott was watching, I wondered how far I could push it. I knew Noah would respond, just because we've known each other since we were kids in school, practically. He knows, and I know, that nothing is in a cuddle from me to him, other than friendship.

But, you know, does Scott?

Sure, we were a couple. Sure, everyone wanted us to stay together. But that was a long time ago.

Sure, his mother said,

“Well, you know which one I'd prefer...”

...when Noah got... what?... committed to Scott. 

“Ay,” says a mate Bradley, who over hears, playfully chiding Noah’s mum.

But that was all kids’ stuff, childhood sweethearts, we were far too young. Truthfully, that was a whole other life time ago.

We danced close. I thought we fitted. I've got lifetime status. Can you say the same thing? I thought, as I looked over at Scott. He only glanced twice. He kept chatting to Audrey... looking like he was having fun. But I could see him looking.

To Scott's credit, he didn't even seem to stress. He continued chatting; the smile didn't leave his face. But he was keeping his eye on us, just out the corner, I could see that.

“You have got the best cock,” he whispers. That’s so we aren't gazed upon as drunks, again, by the slightly up-tight couple, who are both drinking their drinks through straws.

“Well, to tell you the truth... I've never had any complaints.”

“Listen to you,” Noah says. He has the most beautiful smile, he always has.

“I knew Michael wasn't doing it for you,” I said. “You always looked in need. You always looked unsatisfied. Pissed off, even... back then. Michael hated my guts?”

“I'm not saying anything bad about Michael.”

I hold up my little finger. He nods. I chuckle.

“Hard act to follow,” he says. He sips his beer. “I'm only talking about size. Don't praise yourself in any other department... er...” he says.

We gaze over our beer glasses, as we drink.

“It was hot in there.”

“We need more beer,” says Noah.

“I don’t think…”

But Noah has left for the bar.

When we get up to leave, I realise how drunk I really am. I am glad I can walk home, it will do me good.

Noah is looking at me like he is really pissed.

“Well, nice chatting,” I say.

“Yeah, nice to catch up,” says Noah.

“I’m pretty fucken smashed though,” I say. “You aren’t driving, I hope.”

“No, I’ll get a taxi out the front.”

A taxi pulls up as soon as we step onto the footpath out the front of the bar.

“Nice seeing you,” I say.

Noah opens the car door and then turns back to me. “You wanna come with?”

“No,” I say.

“Scott’s away.”

“Good for Scott.”

“I’m lonely on my own.” 

I suddenly think he is trying to make eyes at me, but he just looks like he has something in his eye. I am equally shocked and amused. “Get in the car.”

“Oh, it would be like old times.” He is starting to slur.

I laugh out loud. “Get in the car.” I am beginning to speak through gritted teeth, I can even hear it.

“Last chance.”

I lean in close so the taxi driver can’t hear me. “You are drunk, and you are not thinking straight, get in the car.”

He runs his fingers down my chest, I assume, in a seductive way, “You disappoint me.” I just find it kind of revolting.

I give him a shove. He slides arse first into the back seat of the taxi. He stares out at me at the car window like a frozen moment as the taxi drives away.

I turn and start to walk.

My coat flaps open. The wind blows. The footpaths are, relatively empty. The breeze refreshes me. I smile about both instances, more or less, in exactly the same way.

Awake

Liam had been sitting up smoking pot, on his own on Saturday night. 

He’d fallen asleep on the couch watching TV, sometime in the early hours. He was dreaming about being lost in some religious cult. “Repent,” or something was being said. The evangelicals were blaring from the flat-screen, when he woke up with a start.

“Ah!”

That's what the lost insomniacs are given a diet of, he thinks, what they get when they are at their most vulnerable, sleep deprived, angsty, looking for answers. It's the state water-boarding gets you too, where you will admit, or accept anything. He objected to them being on late night TV. Keep that American disease in America, he thinks. Surely, old movies are better for the sleep deprived?

It seems the story of the deluded comes creeping at night, like rats. He chuckles to himself

He thinks about watching some porn, but he picks up the remote and switches the TV off instead.

It's Sunday morning, soon to be breaking. The sun would be coming up soon, he thinks.

He had a fight with Ava. It was about something stupid, isn’t it always. He is alone, on the weekend for the first time in, he doesn’t know, how long.

He signed into Facebook, but it was a waste of time, as it has been lately.

It's 5.30am, it’s early. He decides to have one last joint and then head to bed. He could probably get a few hours in before his mate Oliver comes over for them to head out to the gym and lunch and a movie. Ollie wants to see Animal Kingdom, which he described as some degenerate Aussie movie. Ollie was always late, Liam was banking on him being late this morning.

Liam flips the lid of the cigarette packet open and it is empty. “Damn,” he says.

He thinks he should just go to bed, forget about the joint, be cool, but the pot helps him to sleep and he wants to sleep before Oliver rings the doorbell.

He pulls on his hoodie and slides on his NikeAirs. He tries to encourage Gus his lazy bulldog to go with him, but Gus is snoring in his bed and doesn’t want to move.

Liam heads out the front door. He crosses his street diagonally, then he crosses the main crossroad in the same way. He is quickly on the main road that is heading to the convenience shop.

The streets are deserted, just pools of light below the street lights dotted along the footpath.

Suddenly he is wishing he’d bought his head phones, and momentarily he is thinking about going back and getting them, except he is now half way to the shop and suddenly that idea seems stupid.

Suddenly, without any sound, a voice behind him says, “I have a knife, and I will use it, give me your wallet and your phone.”

Liam is startled, and starts to turn around.

“DON’T TURN AROUND,” screams the voice behind him.

Liam had turned enough to see the large silver kitchen knife this guy had in his hand. “Hey man, what are you doing?”

The guy behind leans in close to the back of Liam’s head, pushing his face into Liam’s hair. “My instructions were really fucken clear, give me your phone and your wallet or you will force me to use this knife on you,” says the voice in a quiet, but seethingly menacing tone. “I have nothing to lose.”

“Hey buddy…”

The guy grabbs Liam by the shoulder pushing the blade of the knife against Liam’s neck. “I’m not your fucking buddy.”

“I don’t have a phone, and I only have a debit card in my pocket,” says Liam.

“I don’t fucken believe you!”

“Hey, man, it doesn’t have to be this way.”

“Be this way! Be this way! Fuck you! Empty your pockets.”

“Sure, no problem.” Liam reaches into his pocket and pulls out his debit card. “That’s it.”

“Empty you other pocket!”

“There is nothing in it to empty.”

The next thing Liam feels is the guy with the knife’s hand slide into his left track pants pocket. “See nothing,” says Liam

“Fuck you!” The guy with the knife pushes Liam hard in the back. “Let’s go.”

“Let’s go where?” Liam asks.

“Let’s go to the shop and get money.”

“What?”

“You smell like you have money. Nice clothes. Clean hair. We’ll get some money from the ATM.”

“I’m not getting money out of the ATM for you.”

“YOU ARE NOT EXACTLY IN A POSITION TO REFUSE.” The guy takes a big breath as if to calm himself. “Remember I am the one with the knife. Now start walking and we’ll get some money from your account that you will never fucken miss! Move!” 

The guy pushes Liam in the back again, and Liam starts walking towards the convenience shop.

“Mate, I am sorry life is treating you bad,” says Liam as the two of them walk the deserted street.

“Don’t tell me about my life. You know nothing about it.”

“Well, man, is this what you wanted to do in life?”

“Of course it’s not, what shit are you talking?”

“This is not the way…”

“Easy for you to fucken say, what do you do?”

“What?”

“What do you do, it is an easy fucken question?”

“What do I do for a job?”

“Yes. Nice looking guy, hair smells like perfume, and even your shit clothes are expensive. What job do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer.”

“Jesus, a fucking lawyer, making money off the misery of others.”

“I’m not that kind of lawyer.”

“A mother and father?”

“What?”

“Do you have a mother and father?”

“Yes.”

“Where your father went to work and your mum, I don’t know, played tennis?”

“She did charity work.”

“She did charity work,” the guy with the knife says with what could only be described as disgust. “You wanna know what I got?”

“Sure.”

“I got a mother that was so fucked up on booze that she never noticed that one of my long lines of uncles was diddling me in night, that’s what I got.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s brilliant, you are fucken sorry. That makes it all fucken better.”

They turn the corner to the front of 7/11.

“There’s no ATM,” says Liam.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Go inside and get me money!”

“What!”

“YOU HEARD ME!”

Liam pushes the doors open and enters the shop. The guy with the knife follows him. 

“Hey man, call the police, this guy has a knife.”

“What?” says the guy behind the counter and the guy with the knife in unison.

“He’s trying to rob me, call the police.”

“You fucken snake,” says the guy with the knife.

He stands and looks from Liam to the guy behind the counter and back to Liam. He genuinely looks confused.

“Police, please,” says the guy behind the counter into the phone. “Hurry!”

“I fucken hate you,” says the guy with the knife. “I thought I could trust you?”

“What?” questions Liam.

The guy with the knife turns and runs out of the shop.

Everyone Fails at Marriage

In every day, in every way. You seem to see them fade away. So much hope at the beginning, so much hate at the end. Whoever knew that was the way they would end.

The boys cheat. The girls cheat. The girls can’t forgive the boys for betraying them. The boys can’t forgive the girls for getting another dick inside them. And it all falls apart from there. The girls get revenge, if they can. And the boys, in some cases, are capable of something much worse. 

The boys find some younger chick to share their bed. The girls live out their days alone, regretting giving up work and forgoing their wages and super to have his kids.

The kids never really get over any of this. Their lives were better with married bliss. But how many times did the joy turn into fights?

Step fathers ensure. Step mothers moved in too soon. Blended family’s that worked, or that bled to death. So many uncles, so many wives. They never thought how this would affect their lives.

Married too young. Married for love. Did what their parents wanted them to do. Ran away just the two. Hung on too long. Never gave it a shot. Were never suitable as a pair. Their love died on the vine. Someone else turned their heads. He just liked taking girls to bed. Both too attractive for their own good. Married up. Married down. She trapped him with a child. He lied so as not to be gay, he didn’t want to live that way. They all misrepresented what they wanted for love, too young to know, too old to care, some may say stupidity all around.

And, of course, it is never going to be you, your love is for real and it is beautiful and it is forever, until it isn’t.

“She was fucking her boss.”

“What? The one with the mustang and the beach house.”

“Yep, that’s the one.”

“Didn’t he have a wife?”

“Yes, of 10 years. Not anymore.”

“He was fucking his mate.”

“What?”

“Andre with the curls and the big cock, apparently.”

“With all those blond curls?”

“Yep.”

“You can never trust a guy who is prettier than most girls.”

“They loved each other once.”

“Really?”

“Yes, in the beginning they were always touching wherever they were. Couldn’t get enough of each other.”

“They weren’t like that at the end?”

“The last two years they only spoke to each other through their lawyers.”

“Well, of course, her parents were the problem.”

“Her parents?”

“They would only give her all that money if she married Rob.”

“Is that why she married him?”

“And he got a lot of that money in the end, when she left him. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t what her parents had in mind.”

“They ran off to Las Vegas a week after they met.”

“They wouldn’t have known each other by then.”

“She admits that she didn’t learn his last name until the day of the wedding.”

“Wow! That bodes well for their future.”

“He wanted kids, she didn’t. She wanted to travel, he didn’t. She wanted to live in Sydney, he wanted to live in Melbourne.”

“Jesus, what a disaster.”

“They didn’t make it to 12 months.”

“They were miserable for at least 10 years.”

“It’s a long time to be unhappy.”

“We were begging them to separate in the end, none of us could stand to be around them.”

“So, their friends split them up?”

“Well, you can only be miserable for so long before something has to fucken give.”

“And it did?”

“And it did. She got out of the car half way to Echuca and the way to visit his parents.”

“On the highway.”

“Joylene had to drive up and get her. She never saw him again.”

“He was always out with the boys playing with cars. She was always at work with her big time career.”

“I never really saw them together.”

“No, they never seemed to coordinate their lives to fit the other one in.”

“They just never seemed to be into each other.”

“She took up 6 months working in New York and she forgot to tell him.”

“She forgot to tell him?”

“Ross called it quits at that point, and she never did anything to get him back.”

“It was the love affair of the ages, the two of them.”

“Really, I never saw that.”

“Oh, they were gorgeous together once.”

“So, what happened?”

“Well, Josie got fat, and Malcolm said he didn’t fancier her after that.”

“That’s pretty shallow, isn’t it.”

“Then Josie could never forgive him…”

“For not finding her attractive?”

“I know, when I say it out loud.”

“That’s terrible.”

“And it just fell apart after that.”

“After Jenny had the second son, she took up tennis lessons to get back in shape.”

“But, she’s always been gorgeous, pregnancy, or not.”

“Yes, I agree, always, the problem was the 21 year old tennis instructor, Brock, thought so too.”

“Oh, I can picture what Brock looks like.”

“Teddy could never forgive her for betraying him.”

“Those poor little boys.”

“I know.”

“Jamie liked the girls, and from all reports they liked him too.”

“He was always a good sort.”

“Apparently he was giving it to any girl that showed interest in him.”

“While Sienna was home with their baby too.’

“In the end, there were two other girls home with his babies.”

“Sienna was heart broken, she thought it was forever with Jamie.”

“How are those glamazons?”

“Davey and Katie?”

“Yes, Davie and Katie.”

“Katie ran off with one of the lawyers from her office, and Davie is shacked up with an 18 year old model.”

“Oh, the two of them were always too beautiful for words.”

“Katie dumped the lawyer from her office after a couple of months for one of the partners of the firm. Apparently, the 18 year old model is pregnant.”

“That’s one way to keep Mr Beautiful.”

“Not really a good way, though.”

“What would he see in an 18 year old?”

“You mean other than the perky tits and an arse that never quits.”

“How is she going to keep him when the baby tears all of that to shit?”

“Yeah, it will be interesting.”

“She was a stripper from a drunken buck’s night.”

“Is that where he met her?”

“Apparently, he and his mate were doing her at the same time, in the change room out the back.”

“It takes all sorts.”

“Then she got him to do his mate.”

“He did his mate?”

“She wanted to see it.”

“Drugs?”

“Sure. But they have stayed together ever since.”

“Big time lawyer and his stripper babe.”

“Something like that.”

“She got pregnant on a one night stand and then she came after him.”

“Do you think it was deliberate?”

“The pregnancy?”

“Yes, the pregnancy.”

“She picked the guy with the money then came after him for support.”

“And he had to pay?”

“He had to pay for a kid he didn’t want.”

"Does he want it now?"

"Not really."

“How is Olivia and Henry?”

“Olivia and Henry? Oh? Um?”

“Oh why, what has happened.”

“Well, Olivia says that Henry was never very passionate.”

“Oh, well, poor Olivia.”

“Then one drug fucked morning she and Henry were sitting in a gutter outside a pub after Mardi Gras.”

“Oh, we’ve all been there.”

“And Henry confessed he’d always suspected he was gay.”

“Suddenly, it all made sense to Olivia and she started to cry.”

“Oh, well, poor Olivia.”

“And Henry started to cry.”

“Oh, well, get it out, I guess.”

“They have been in counselling ever since.”

The Queensland Floods

The only trouble with the Queensland floods was there wasn't enough water. The job didn't get finished.

Ha ha, he he! 

Is this just a mean old smarty pants Victorian joke at the expense of our northern cousins? All of us waiting for that twangy accent to fire up in protest. 

Yep, I guess it is. Ha ha, he he. 

It's like being mean to your country cousins, the ones with the crossed eyes and the 6 fingers on one hand, which is always fun. More fun than flash cards. More fun than drugs. (okay, we can’t all agree on that one) More fun than leading old ladies halfway across roads, turning your back and waiting for the screech of brakes and the thud. WooHoo! More fun than denouncing Jesus in front of Madge Vickers-Waffle and watching her stammer and clutch at her pearls and finger her bible, rabidly.

More fun than a box of monkeys, or a room full of puppies. More fun than… oh, so much fun one can have keeping one’s clothes on.

The Mexicans laugh uproariously.

The rednecks cry pitifully.

Oh, I know, we shouldn’t be mean to our northern cousins, they have to spend far too much time in the sun.

They think we are insulted by being called Mexicans, but, of course, we’re not. We’re not quite so bigoted, nor as racist, as our northern ‘brethren’ so we embrace the title, anything that differentiates us from them is okay with us.

And, of course, we don’t actually want anything bad to happen to them of course we don’t, so we send our firefighters and our burly guys who get off on such work, because we grow them as big and as burly as anything that can be grown up north.

Of course, we have to send help, those barely open mouthed accents, we’d here the whining from down here, if we didn't.

Ah Queensland. Beautiful one minute. Under water the next.

“Ah, you know, Beryl, glug, glug, glug. It’s terrible.”

“Arthur wanted to move up there last year for his arthritis.”

“His arthritis?”

“Apparently, the warmth is good for it.”

“Oh, I see.”

“I said Arthur, it is an awfully long way to go just to get some relief for your arthritis.”

“You’d sell up and move the whole kit and kaboodle up beyond NSW?”

“Oh yes, Marjorie, we’d have to sell up, we’re not fucken millionaires, you know darl.”

“It’s a big move, Beryl.”

“I know, Marj, that’s what I said to Arthur. It’s a big move. It is a long way to go chasing the sun for a little arthritic relief. Arthur said to me that I used to be his arthritic relief.” Chuckle.”

“Oh Beryl, you are terrible.”

“But not since that incident with the goat.”

“Oh yes, the goat, nasty business.”

“And what happens if we don’t like it?”

“Indeed Beryl, what if?”

“I guess we could always come back…”

“But once you’ve sold up…”

“I know, once we’ve sold up, coming back again would be such a kerfuffle.”

“Oh, wouldn’t it Beryl.”

“Leaving all of my friends, who I’ve known for a life time would be a wrench.”

“I don’t think you realise how much of a wrench it would be.”

“That’s what I said to Arthur, we’ve lived down here all our lives, everything is down here, the kids, our history. I’m just not sure how I would go.”

“How would you go, Beryl?”

“I just don’t know, I really don’t. It’s not like we can try before we buy first, very easily.”

“It is a long way to go.”

“That is what we decided in the end, it is a long way to go leaving everyone behind.”

“I think you made the right choice, Beryl.”

“We decided to wait twelve months and see how we felt then.”

“Oh, is that what you decided, Beryl?”

“Arthur said he’d go and see Doc Brown and see what pills are now available.”

“Oh yes, modern medicine is a wonderous thing.”

“Anyway, just think, if we had gone, I might be up to my neck in water now.”

“Up to your neck in water?”

“And nobody wants that.”

“Nobody, Beryl, nobody.”

I don’t want to spent my twilight years treading water.”

“Oh Beryl, you make me laugh. I’d miss you if you moved up there.”

“I’d miss you too, Marj.”

There Should, Of Course, Be Jam

There should, of course, be jam in our lives. Life is too short without jam. It makes everything sweeter, nicer, brighter, happier, fruitier. It is sunshine in a jar. It is joy with a screw lid. It is brighter & fruitier than a gay cruise. (the type with a boat, that is, not the other kind) It is the basis for a lovely day.

What the world needs now is more colour, that's, lots more colour, fruity colour, colourful colour, happier colour, colour that makes you feel gay, of course. 

Jam it is lovely. The colours of the rainbow, captured in glass. Every colour under the sun.

Look at it, feel it, open the lid and taste it. Dip your finger in and lick it off. Double dip your finger, life is too short. Eat it with a spoon. Suck it up with a straw. Wipe it all over your mouth. Spread it thickly on your toast. Slather your fresh bread with butter and jam, pile it on thick, role it into a cylinder.

One of the great mantras for life, there is always room for more jam.

Red, orange, yellow and Blue

You could paint it on me, I could paint it on you

Honey be careful for what you wish

What are you saying, no bee products thanks, Trish?

None of this golden brown bee juice, thanks you so much

It might be good if you want to lacquer a box

But not if you want to paint the town yellow, pink and red

Colours to make us smile, colours to make us shine

To brighten our lives, to brighten our world

Starry, Starry night like Vincent Van Gough might

Peach, tangerine, mango and blue

Finger paint. Face paint. War paint. We cheer

Except jam is never used for conflict, my dear

Only for peace, I hear the multitudes boast

This piece of bread. That piece of toast

And we all like strawberry the most

Raspberry, apricot, Pineapple and lime

Adding banana is certainly never a crime

Whatever you think is lovely, whatever you think is sublime

Adding jam to you bread has be done all throughout time

Never Say You Are Sorry

Never say you are sorry.

Never?

No never.

Never?

You can never admit such defeat. You'd be a gonna.

A gonna?

Dead. Death. Trampled by all the others. The stronger ones, who would never admit defeat.

Dog eat dog?

Yes, that’s right. Dog eat dog.

A gonna you say?

Yes, a gonna in every way.

Every way?

Yes, every way. You wouldn’t make it out.

Never Make it out?

Never make it out.

Never make it out?

Forget it.

Forget it?

That’s right.

In every way?

A gonna.

Dog eat dog?

Dog eat dog.

Never say you are sorry?

Never.

If I want to make it out of here?

If you want to make it out of here!

Make it out of Poor Town?

You’ll never do it.

If I say sorry?

If you show any sign of weakness, you are here for life.

Stuck in Poor Town?

Believe me when I say it.

Believe you?

Well, you don’t have to believe me.

I don’t have to believe you?

Believe Bewildered Johnny or Narco Nancy.

Johnny and Nancy?

Believe Hatchet Harry or Nelly the Knife.

Harry and Nelly?

They said sorry.

They said sorry?

And look at them now.

Stuck in Poor Town?

Stuck in Poor Town.

With the scammers still picking their bones?

Like Vultures!

Ripping away the flesh?

Ripping away the flesh.

Because they said sorry?

When they should have said get out of my fucking way.

Out of my way?

That’s what they should have said.

To get out of here?

To get out of Poor Town

To get out of Poor Town?

They should have stepped forward.

Stepped forward?

On and over anyone who was in the way.

Over those who were in the way?

It is the only way

The only way?

To get out of here.

Poor Town?

The only way out.