My Dinosaur Era Chapter 11

 

big days on the beer tend to taper away, the promise fizzles

three beers in, the will to carry on doing this wanes

you stop believing that this is the answer

get bored of your own repetitive self 

 

I swapped the pub for sainsburys, meal deal, chicken triple

quavers, energy drink to replenish my molten liver

walking along western road, umbrellas inside out in this wind

a cyclist wavers against the kerb, front wheel out of control

one had hanging onto a hat, barely worth the bother to pedal in this tunnel

 

cut through the park, swings scream out for company

the silver slide, wiped clean under the rain

a runner fights through it all, every step splashes

the cafe sits barely open, a lone smoker sits at a plastic table

not even bothering to huddle, proud to be braving it

the tennis courts shimmer, puddles wiggle, the net droops low

 

ginny messages me as I leave the park behind

did you meet petula, she says

no, she was busy, I say

I can meet you at three, bunking off early today, where are you, she says

yeah, I’m cold and wet now, I say

why aren’t you inside you maniac, she says

I start to type an answer under a maple tree

she interrupts, I’ll meet you at the lobster, it’s on my way home

I delete my letters, reply, yeah, ok

I turn and walk back through the park, tracing my steps

observing it all the other way around, the world mutates in reverse

 

at the lobster, main bar empty, people in each corner, feels dark

one beer, two beer, one for ginny, she’ll be late

sat in a booth, tv showing basketball with no eyes on it

beer inferior to before, lacks the care of the hole

pump pulled without feeling, affects the taste, prove me wrong

ginny on the lager, bubbles everywhere, might be flat by the time she waltzes in

two gift nine, she comes, a miracle in our world

her hair stuck flat to her head, she looks even smaller wet

sees me, points the other way, gone again

reappears after a few minutes, grabs pint, still standing, one gulp

sorry, had to dry my hair in the bog, look at the state of it, she says

yeah, I did the same, I say

bald prick, she says, smiles

sits down opposite me, still floofing about with her hair

so, how you doing, she says, did you go to the hole already

I did, how did you know, did petula say, I say

no she did not, timmy, you are just very predictable in your whereabouts, she says

I guess I am, I say

what’s she doing that’s more important than comforting you in your hour of need, she says

I’m not in an hour of need, I say

oh shut up, what is she doing then, she says

yoga, work, dentist, I say

hmm, sounds plausible I suppose, she says

what do you mean sounds plausible, I say

if I was going to make something up, it would be more random, less mundane, she says

I don’t think she is making it up, I say

yes, that’s what I said timmy, she says

my head is spinning, she’s only been her for two minutes and I am befuddled

how’s it going with you two, I bet you haven’t even held hands yet, she says

we actually have held hands, I say

oh, my handsome little boy, all grown up, she says

so glad I met you today, always a warm welcome, I say

her mocking is adorable, it’s her love language, I lap it up

stop being grumpy, timmy, she says, let us drink to your freedom

she raises her glass and I raise mine

freedom, she shouts

freedom, I shout

the barman furrows his brow

he would though

he’s not free like me

 

we drink till seven, I trip up the kerb outside the pub, fall to my knees

ginny picks me up, she’s still standing

I’ll take you home, she says

I smile and put my arm around her, we stagger along

up the hill, left a bit, ok, we’re here

she comes up to the flat, another drink now we are safe

jesus, you’ve decorated, she says

yeah, I’ve had the paint for ages, I say

was petula here yesterday perchance, she says

yeah, but I didn’t paint the walls for her, I say

of course you did, timmy, don’t be silly, she says

the words suck up into my drunken head

the remonstration portion of my brain is broken

also, she’s right, as she always fucking is

 

we sit on the sofa with cans of gin and tonic

I threaten to put some reggae on

she wrestles the record out of my hand

no, no, not the fucking downstroke, timmy, she shouts

we laugh so loud, that dog barks at us

ginny barks back, jumping up and down on the sofa

I put on american pie, she groans as the first bar emerges

a long, long time ago

we sing all the words, percussion courtesy of the dog next door