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Showing posts from July, 2014

B is for True Believer

“You ever thought of getting a trial separation from God?” The question was unexpected given the nature of the evening but I immediately knew exactly where he was going with it. Nevertheless, I played along. Why?” “Maybe, so you can see other people.” He was starting to sound like the American TV drama we were watching. Drama is relative; more like a soap opera. “That’ll never work.” I said “Yes. I forgot. Jesus is the only boy you could be in a long term relationship with. Irony abounds.” I shot him a dirty look. It would have been more powerful if I had long flowing locks. And was Farrah Fawcett. “What. Don’t give me that ‘Satan-be-gone’ look. I’m serious.”
I stopped pouring the Pringles and turned to him proper.
“HE is not the problem. That’s not…” three pages of retort swam in my head with no actual direction. “And that’s not irony okay that’s….” still, no actual direction. I graduated top of my class in English Language and Lit; I can debate the merits of everything; I live for philoso…

B is for Covered in Stupid (Gym Day)

I started to groan the second the mobile started ringing off. I could ignore it but he’d call. And call. And call. He’s a boy like that. I roll my eyes as ‘Barely Breathing’ continues to play. It seemed like a good idea at the time to have that as my ringtone. “Hi,” He stretches it out. He always stretches his ‘hi’s’ like some strange game show announcer, “listen, I’m so sorry, but I’m gonna be… I don’t know, fifteen minutes late. Max.” He sounded contrite. He kept rattling off what the day was like and why he’d be late; the wind, whipping into his mobile as he spoke. I felt horrid about what I was going to tell him. “I’m not going.” I said after a breath He said nothing. All I heard was the wind; followed by the honking horn and the screaming. “Sorry, bad drive. What were you saying now?” “You heard.” “I hate you, you know that.” I smiled. It wasn’t funny but it was. I knew if I was near, he’d probably throw something or a few 'somethings' in my direction. Gym was a religious order…

B is for "Dude, I got nothing."

He forewarned me, the playlist is gay. At least that’s how he called it. I didn’t see it though. I scanned through the player looking for the stereotypical trance music and show-tunes [thanks America] and saw nothing of the sort. Wait…. No, still nothing. “Look closer”, he said smiling and I, not wanting to be that guy, looked again. I laughed so hard when I saw it: -Take it on the other side [red hot chilis] -Grinding [Clipse] -Happy [Pharell] There was even Mos Def's ‘My Umi Say’. His latest…. I don’t know what to call him, was called Umi. There WERE a few Kylie in there but then that’s not gay, its 2am-club. What struck me as odd was the series of classical tracks in the ‘gay’ folder. I pondered on the tracks as I held his player in my hand. I guess you can say, ‘O Fortuna’ is the sound one makes when one, you know. I asked him about it, half expecting him to give me an equally warped answer; something stupid like, “Oh, Fortuna’s this Queen who’s always on the boat rides.”  Instead…