My Dinosaur Era Chapter 15

 

I get to the nearest bar to the station

sat in the corner with a pint expensive enough to turn you to drink

hate this pub, cost a fortune to renovate, the bar under fourteen coats of lacquer

tables sporting petite lamps, twee enough to make me want to smash them on the floor

food appears from a doorway, slab of meat in a roll, seventeen quid pal,

chips in little tin buckets, look at us, aren’t we so terribly clever

my pint was nearly eight quid, it’s not bad,

every sip is bitter with resentment

 

I’m still tired, the nearly nap exhausted me, big slug of beer, smack my lips

fancy a shot, seems weird to ask for one in here, not sure why

I never come here, the don’t know me

 

back at the table with two black sambucas, 

one’s for my mate, honest

the drink that launched a thousand head butts,

revive me, please lift me up, gotta get out of here

go down the hole, see friendly faces, could text ginny

not sure if I’m in the mood, have you kissed yet, she’ll say

pushing me, trying to get me somewhere better,

she means well, she must do

 

sambuca one, scorches the back of my throat, welcome home baby

gulp of beer, head is clearing, I hate the pub seven percent less now

I look both ways, like a rubbish spy, is anyone looking

secret operation about to proceed

codename sambuca number two

kinder than number one, a gentle swallow, I am warm

 

look at my phone, feel like texting petula

I have never texted her, she said she doesn’t like texts

please just call me she told me

the opposite of everyone else I know

if I called ginny and no one had died, she’d never forgive me

turn the phone face down on the table

it’s downhill to the hole, I can slide down to the sea

 

I take the back route, avoid queens road

trails of people struggling upwards to get their trains

I slow as I go past the caxton arms, should have gone there instead

bar billiards table guarding the window

evening football on the big screen, can’t see who’s playing

might be chelsea, could be everton, blue anyway

I come out on churchill square, kids sit on walls

at bus stops, on steps, does anyone stand up anymore

I think, you old fucker, let them sit down

past the prince of wales, karaoke comes through the windows

wails, top notes that were just a dream,

words rolled into one like a ball of plasticine

 

the last bit to the hole, the promised land,

no one about, almost dark now, curtains are closing

above the rooftops the big silver tower is lit up,

a cyber mushroom, red underside, a warning

the door to the hole is open, it’s a mild evening

some voices pour into the air to greet me

I stop, I hope it’s all going to be nice

 

over the threshold, immediately see ginny at the bar

perched up high on a stool, back to me

I take in her arse, I always do, it’s a beauty

her objet d’art framed by the red velvet upholstery

I smile to myself, sambuca is winning

oh, hi, she says

hi, I say

were you looking at my arse, she says

of course I was, I say

good, she says, I’ll be sad if you ever stop

I’ll endeavour to never stop, I say

how was shoreham, she says

yeah, was fine, we just walked around a bit, talked, you know, I say

you seem a bit flat, timmy, she says

I am just tired, some maniac got me drunk last night, I say

got you drunk, jesus, you wouldn’t stop, she says

I think I was just in the mood, not in a bad way for once, I say

sure, you were in good spirits considering you had just been fired, she says

alan appears in front of me, he looks tired, like he’s been here forever

hiya, you look like shit mate, I say

ta pal, appreciate that, he says

busy day, I say

yeah and got wrecked last night, he says

same, I say

he’s already poured me a pint, knows me too well

come on, let’s find a table, ginny says

we pick up our pints, squeeze into a corner

a scruffy dog licks my hand as I sit down, the owner says sorry

no need to be sorry, dogs do be licking stuff

shall I get it out of the way, I say

get what out of the way, she says

the petula debrief, I say

ha, sure, why not, though I wasn’t going to ask, she says

you fucking were, I say

yeah, I was, she says

like I said, we walked to shoreham, I say

you walked there, fucking hell, that’s miles, she says

it is for your little legs, quite manageable for people of adult height, I say

fuck off, timmy, she says

yeah, so we walked over there, had a couple of drinks and got the train back, I say

that’s it, that’s your debrief, she says

well, yeah, that’s what happened, I say

ok, well if you want to be like that about it, fine, she say

like what, I told you how it went, what more do you want, I say

look, timmy, you don’t have to tell me anything, you know, but you are my friend and friends sometimes tell each other about how things are in their life, how they are feeling, how relationships are progressing, or not as the case may be, I don’t need to hear your itinerary for the day, do I, she says

ok, ok, fine, look, I like her, she’s cool, I say

it’s a start, she says

sorry, yeah that was rubbish, I mean, I like hanging out with her, it feels natural, not like we are on forced dates where there’s all the pressure to talk a lot and ask loads of questions, we just drift along, learning as we go, I say

uh huh, still holding hands the, she says

sure, we held hands for a bit, I say

you are a funny one, timmy, she says

why, I say

most men would be trying so fucking desperately to get the glorious petula into bed and here’s you, mooning about chatting about the weather, it’s lovely, she says

you know I’m not normal, like, I don’t chat women up or hit on women or whatever it’s called, and I’ve barely spoken to another woman since jane, I never even wanted to till now, I say

I know, darling, I know, she says

she takes my hand and squeezes it, I squeeze back

jesus, I was so hungover at work today, she says

you went to work, fucking hell, I say

yeah, the hotel business is not a monday to friday gig, she says

I was destroyed this morning, I say

I vomited in one of the toilets I was cleaning, she says

that’s a beautiful image, I say

 

we drink our beers and I get more from the bar

have you arranged to meet up again, she says

no, not yet, we’ll call each other I suppose, I say

you suppose, you maybe need to be a touch more engaged, she says

I guess, I say

and you call each other, what the fuck is that about, why don’t you text each other like normal people, she says

she says she doesn’t like texting, I say

what a weirdo, she says

it’s a bit strange, I get dead anxious when I call, just not used to it, I say

I could not have people ringing me, the actual horror, she says

 

one more set of beers pass through us, I feel gently drunk

one of those moments where anything feels possible

I scroll up and down my phone, still wanting to text petula

a simple message to say hello, nothing too spectacular

fuck it, a gentle signifier that I am thinking of her is sweet, right

had a lovely day, speak soon, tim

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