Munter 6: The Katinka Otter Complex

They went to a pub called Beagan’s. Munter had a strong memory of pubs, but he had a difficult time associating his memory of pubs with the pub he was now in. Before they went into the pub, they met two of the winos Nobuko had been with earlier. The professor and the smoky moth moustachioed one.
Munter, said Munter, introducing himself.
Al, replied the smoky moth moustachioed one, laughing.
Munter couldn’t understand why ‘Al’ laughed when he introduced himself. He thought that maybe ‘Al’ wasn’t his real name or something.
Keith Berkeley, said the professor.
Pleased to meet both of you, said Munter; he told them he was pleased to meet them, but he wasn’t. There was something about them he didn’t want to be around, and didn’t want Nobuko to be around.
Where are you going? Keith asked Nobuko.
We are looking for a pub. We’re going to get some drinks.
We’ll go with you, said Keith.
Munter knelt down to adjust his sticky-taped shoe again; Nobuko knelt down to help him.
Here, let me, will you? she said.
It’s okay, I can do it myself.
Will you let me? You’re tugging too hard at it. Do you want it to come to pieces?

*

Keith and Al did not go into Beagan’s. They said they would wait outside because the barman knew them and they would just be flung out.
Come on in, will you, said Nobuko.
No, we’ll wait, said Al.
We’ll have a drink here, said Keith. Do you have any cans left?
Nobuko handed them two of her slime-green cans.
Thank you sweetly, said Keith. Don’t be long in there. We’ll be waiting out here, around the corner there.

*

They were having a pub quiz in Beagan’s. It was just finishing. They were about to announce the winner. A man wearing a tartan cap got up to make the announcement and informed the crowd there would be an Intoxicated Spelling Bee held on Sunday afternoon. Munter ordered a pint of Guinness. It was the first pint of Guinness he’d had in a year. The barman was run off his feet, and appeared rude. He didn’t say thanks to Munter and didn’t even look at him when he was handing the change back. Nobuko ordered a vodka. A team called Strangers on a Train won the pub quiz. They went up to collect their prize, a box of liquorice allsorts and two bottles of chardonnay.

*

Upon entering Beagan’s, Munter received a feeling of burden. He looked around the pub to see where this feeling of burden was coming from. He eventually pinpointed the burden. At the back of the pub, standing amongst a large party of swish folk, was Judith Kingdom; she was wearing her spangly silver woollen hat and holding a glass with a cocktail drink in it. These people she’s with must be the people from her play, Munter remarked to himself.

Do you know them? Nobuko asked, spilling half of her vodka on the floor.
I know her there, he said, indicating Judith.
Let’s go over to them, they look interesting.
No, we shouldn’t.
Is she one of your ex-girlfriends? Is she going to throw her bloody cocktail in your face? Or is she going to run away from you?
She could do. Either of those. I’m just not sure if we should go over.
Just then, Judith and Munter’s eyes met. Munter smiled nervously and waved weakly. She returned the nervous smile.
I think we have to go over to them now, said Nobuko. You’ve acknowledged each other’s presence.

*

How are you doing, Judith? asked Munter
Fine. You? said Judith, curtly but politely.
That’s good, yeah, I’m fine, said Munter.
He could see a sigh in her face, though she did not physically sigh. He could hear a carp in her voice, though she did not audibly carp. His mind may have been playing tricks on him by making him imagine all these things. Why had he allowed himself to become so unnerved by this experience with Judith? Theirs had only been a short encounter, but it still haunted him. It seemed to be a continuous game of hide and seek. Munter had been the seeker, but Judith had found the perfect hiding place, and he would never have found her unless she had given some clue as to where she was, or revealed herself. But she hadn’t wanted to. She stayed where she was. Maybe if the right physical specimen had come along looking for her, she may have given him a hint with regards her location. But she certainly wouldn’t do so for Munter. Meanwhile Munter continued to walk blindly along, seeking, but never finding. He tried to banish these thoughts from his brain. They were silly and took up too much space. He started to jerk his head quickly to the left hoping he could cast the thoughts out, by way of his left ear. Everyone thought he had a funny twitch.
I’m getting another drink, said Judith, rushing quickly to the bar, leaving Munter and Nobuko to introduce themselves to her swish companions. They were a verbose group, swathed in loud discussion and makeshift panache. Products of strength, Munter remarked to himself. Products of tidy family, tidy minds. Products of wealth and education. Products of everything everyone required in order to live with a little confidence, but were things only some ever received. One of the products of strength was louder than the others. He resembled a puffin that had been puffed up with hot air like a big balloon. He was speaking about art. Not about anyone Munter knew anything about, like any of The Great Masters. He was talking about something Munter knew nothing about. The fattened puffin had Australia-shaped hair. He had a sneer on his face that suggested a life of little hardship and much fortune. Munter could tell a lot about a person by a sneer on the face. He could almost read the fattened puffin’s life story through the sneer.
My name is Nobuko, said Nobuko. And this is Munter. We’re social misfits. What about you guys?
Some of the people laughed, others were simply confused. There were about seven people in Judith’s group. Munter attempted to go through them all one by one introducing himself, but they were more interested in the little conversations they were having amongst themselves. He wondered if any of them were actors in the play. Some of them were awfully good-looking. Actors in plays were more frequently good-looking than not.
Judith returned with another cocktail drink, and also a small bottle of wine for the fattened puffin.
Thank you, my darling, said the fattened puffin, in a manner befitting his dramatic personality.

*

There was one man there who stood out from the rest for Munter, in that he was not promoting himself in some grandiloquent vein. Although he had an extremely cultured and bohemian way about him, his demeanour was amiable and lacking caution. He was from New York and perfectly fitted an ideal of New York flair that existed. Munter imagined him flouncing around Greenwich Village hugging his gay pals and wearing outlandish outfits happily. He was so friendly that Munter almost considered reaching into his pocket to give him some change, but instead just offered to buy him a drink. The man said he was fine.

*

I’m just going outside for a moment, said Nobuko.
I’ll come with you, said Munter.
No, stay here and talk.
Why are you going?
I just want to go out and make sure Keith and Al are gone. I don’t want them hanging around out there.
Okay.
You stay here and talk to these people.
Nobuko began squeezing past the crowd towards the front door of the pub, leaving Munter with Judith and her theatre friends. Judith evidently found Munter’s presence problematic. She tried her best to ignore him and whenever they caught each other’s eyes she glowered faintly. She could see he was very drunk. He was hiccupping.

*

Munter spotted two pieces of paper lying on the floor. He placed his drink on the bar for a moment and knelt down to pick them up. They were the answer-sheets used by two of the teams in the pub quiz. One team was called the Awe; the other was called Green Celtic Warrior of Might. He tried to guess the questions from looking at the answers.

The Green Celtic
Warrior of Might

1. Kiki Dee
2. Shergar
3. Tasmanian Devil
4. Robert Zemekis
5. Bob Geldoff
6. 3-2
7. Brussels
8. Jame Earl Jones
9. Love Me Do
10. River Seine
11. A man.

Team the Awe

1. kiki dee?
2. shergar
3. kangaroo??
4. steven spielberg
5. bob geldof
6. 3-1
7. brussels
8. morgan freeman
9. i am the eggman
10. seine
11. a woman

*

There was a cartoonist with them. He was famous in Dublin for his funny sketches in magazines and also for his big cartoon canvasses which frequented the living room walls of moneyed culture. His name was Angelo Mackin. Munter knew his work, and liked it.

I’ve done a few cartoons myself, said Munter. That’s what I used to do all the time, in fact.
Oh, really? said Angelo, shooting a glance at Judith.
Yes, he’s had a few things published, but nothing major, said Judith.
You’ve been published, really? Angelo Mackin asked Munter. Where have you been published?
A few places, said Munter.
Mostly small magazines, isn’t that right, Munter? said Judith. The underground magazines, isn’t that what you liked to call them?
Have you heard of Pathetic Docs?
No, sounds interesting, replied Angelo, smiling at Judith.
Yeah, they published a lot of my stuff. They’re based in Manchester. And also, do you know No Popinjay?
Yes, said Angelo. Katinka Otter.
Katinka Otter was merely a pseudonym I used. They were stories that I actually published in Pathetic Docs and then broadened and created No Popinjay out of.
Really? said Angelo. He shared a private moment of bewilderment with Judith and the others. None of them believed a word that was coming out of Munter’s mouth because not only were the words implausible, they were travelling on a flying carpet of drink-breath.

*

Munter went to the toilet to vomit, and returned to conversation as if nothing had happened.

*

So how are you doing? Munter asked Judith.
You’ve already asked me that, responded Judith, insensitively.
Yes, I know, said Munter. But the first time I asked, you replied like it was a pain to see me. I just wanted to know if it was still a pain for you to see me, and based on your recent response, I’d say it still is.
It’s not a pain for me to see you. You’re pissed, aren’t you?
Yes, said Munter.
Don’t be getting all stroppy, okay. Yes, it’s uncomfortable for me to be around you when you’re in this state, that’s true. Do you know how pissed you are standing there?
I know I’m pissed, but I couldn’t tell you how bad it looks from your scrutiny. Probably very bad indeed, but I would just like for you to be amiable. I’m not a fucking tyrant, you know.
I don’t think you’re a tyrant, Munter. Jesus Christ!
Hey, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be coming across in some kind of bad way here. I know I’ve got a few drinks in me and everything…
You’re stumbling all over the place, Munter, and you appear to be trying to get into an argument with me.
I’m not trying to get into an argument with you. I just asked you a simple question. How are you doing? I just asked you how you are doing, that’s all.

&

Munter was not aware of himself or his doings for a moment. He allowed the conversation with Judith to deteriorate pretty quickly. Next thing those present to hear knew was an embarrassing dive on Munter’s behalf into the depths of the regretful relationship that had been shaped between the two.
Judith, do you know how ardently I admired and loved you?
Oh, shut up, Munter! What the fuck is this?
What you just said sounds like something out of Emily Bronte, said the fattened puffin.
Jane Austen, said Munter. But it doesn’t matter. Words are disposable. We can do what we want with them. If I get really angry, I’ll be quoting Shakespeare.
You don’t need to be at this, Munter. I know you seem to have a grudge against me for the short relationship we had that finally came to its logical end, but it’s not fair to be coming out with all of this shit now. We weren’t even properly together, for the love of God.
Well, there’s more to it than that, Judith. You did steal something from me too, you know.
What? What the fuck are you talking about?
Never mind, said Munter.
No! What the fuck are you talking about? You’re fucking pissed as a fart and accusing me of stealing. What the hell?
It doesn’t matter. You said No; that was enough.
What?
You said No. I asked you and you said No and that was that. I wanted you to say Yes, but instead you said No, so all I could say and can say is Okay.
You’re crazy! I don’t want to listen to this crap.
You said No because you knew you could do better in the way of a physical specimen.
That’s true, Munter. How the hell did that happen anyway? How the hell did I end up with you in the first place?
Munter stopped. He wanted to say some very nasty things to Judith then, but something stopped him from doing so, the distaste for him in the eyes of everyone present perhaps.
I’ll get my coat, shall I? he said. He’d always wanted to say that.

*

Munter was upset that the people didn’t believe it was he who’d written No Popinjay. Recognition hadn’t troubled him before. Now he wanted to be famous so he could wipe the patronising smirks off their faces. He decided he would ring his old agent, Chupi Sweetman, as soon as he was feeling up to it, and ask her to put the word out on the street, to reclaim his talent and kill Katinka Otter in the public perception. That is, if Chupi would speak to him. He'd met her in London just after she’d acquired a deal with a publisher to produce a complete volume of No Popinjay as a book. Munter had been a drunkard back then, and he’d behaved intolerably in Chupi’s apartment in front of her guests. He’d got into an argument with one of her closest friends and punched him in the face. He had to be thrown out of the apartment. Hopefully she'd forgotten all about that and would now help him to become famous.

*

When Munter got outside, he had completely forgotten about calling Chupi Sweetman to claim the fame he felt he deserved. The feeling was lost in the dizzying clutter of experiences he was collecting. He saw that some other winos had come along and joined Keith, and Al, and Nobuko. It was a man and a woman. The man had a grey moustache and a black eye; the woman had a black eye and plum-coloured teeth. They too were holding slime-green cans for economic reasons; on the woman, a can of Guinness was peering out of a pocket. They spoke in abrasive croaks, their words forming out of boiling phlegm, and in-between their froggy rattles, each took their turn saying, Got any odds for a hostel, to passing painters of the town red. They were talking mostly to Al about something, and there was a kind of violence attending the conversation. It seemed to Munter like the kind of conversation staff members have in their workplace, complaining about a manager or something.
That’s that Morris, poxy bastard! Munter heard the woman say.
What did Morris say? asked Al.
You don’t wanna fuckin’ know, said the man with the grey moustache.
Munter didn’t know what it was they were talking about and conceded he didn’t want to know. It was a topic that concerned full-time employees of the corporation of winos. He saw himself as only a temp.