I was walking slowly.

Dan was tugging on my arm, “hurry up you cunt.”

I walked slower.

Dan pulled harder,”Move it, you’re going to make me miss her.”

We had previously been in the line for the drive-thru, but Dan had spotted a “hot bitch” inside the McDonalds.

He let go of my arm, ripping open the door, it made a loud whack! He almost fell over himself, stumbling around like one of those hippos in the ballerina outfits, he managed to dance himself straight. No one even glanced at the spectacle. Fast food staff are used to the antics of drunk ass-holes, it’s just another Saturday night.

I’m still embarrassed though, or maybe it’s just my way of trying to disguise the self-loathing for letting myself hang out with him in the hopes of getting a raise. I used to read obscure poetry, drink espresso with a shot of vodka in it, smoke cigarettes while writing about the people who passed by me…I obviously suffer from a bi-polar caricaturization of stereotyping.  I’m my own joke at my own expense. A flash of my cubicle and desk hits my mind, I sigh noisily, loud, atonal,like a porn actor ejaculating for the ten thousandth time. No one even glances at me. I’m not drunk, but I guess they know I’m just another ass-hole.

He’s busy ordering., asks me if I want anything.

“A sense of self-worth.”


“No thanks.”

I drag my feet to an open table, I sit down.

Dan brings over two trays, I count three big macs, three large fries, and three large cokes. He tears in to them, gobbling down chunks, his hands not sure what to pick up, they spasm almost uncontrollably, twitching, pinching, picking, fries shoot across the table, pieces of hamburger randomly find their way in to his mouth, down his shirt, over his shoulders. A piece hits a blonde girl on the cheek.

“Ugh”, she utters while looking justifiably disgusted.

Dan turns around, grinning, remnants of his feast clinging to his teeth, cheeks and nostrils. He waves at her then faces me again.

‘Dude, see that? She totally wants me.”

I have nothing with which to respond.

He lifts the lid off one of the cokes, and in one motion, downs the whole thing. He then actually piles up everything on to one of the trays.

I look at him, “what are you doing?”

‘Tidying up? What? Do I look like a pig?”

To be honest I was expecting him to just bury his face in the mass of left overs and trash.

“Dan, what about the two extra cokes, they’re still full?”

“Oh, no, I don’t want them, I just wanted the extra burgers and fries, the meals are just cheaper.”

“Ah you know it’s the drink part that’s the cheap part right?”

‘Don’t be a fucking idiot.”

He stands, picking up the tray, and walks to the bin. There is a pickle stuck to his back, two fries are peeking out from his collar.

It’s not 1999

It’s a Friday night. I’m at a night club. I’m actually in the parking lot of a night club.

Drunk girls and lazers dance passed me. This guy leans in really close, he gurgles and mumbles his secrets to me. I’m mildly irritated. I pat him on the shoulder and he smiles.

On the main stage a musician fumbles between unintentional spoken word and karaoke, back tracked by music which lost its charm fifteen years ago. Listening to him rehash his hits is the equivalent of an out-of-shape drunk man breathing heavily on me, grunting adolescent dirty talk in between a bouquet of cheap cigarettes, cheap beer and cheap burgers, all the while trying to fuck me in the most uncoordinated sloppy manner, usually reserved for mentally challenged slugs.

I sigh.

It’s almost 12 am.

I make my way inside.


I turned thirty this year, it’s disgraceful, I was sure I’d die much younger.

I have a couple of half sisters – I wonder if together they make one whole sister?

Turning thirty has made me remember the one half sister’s thirtieth birthday party.

It was a Friday evening, my girlfriend had recently broken up with me for being too weird and I had decided to get absolutely shit faced. I had stolen a bottle of tequila, carrying it around with me through the night I had been alternating being taking mouthfuls straight from the bottle and gifting her guests with unsolicited truths about life,love and everything else in between.

Someone called me a reprobate, which I think was actually a compliment considering, that in between sipping off the bottle and terrorizing people who I did not know, I had managed to shave off all my hair and had slipped on a school jersey (to whom it belonged I would never find out).

Eventually I had run out of steam.

I managed to crawl on to a bed hoping to pass out and fade away, but first I puked in to a handbag.

My mind haphazardly stirred me in to consciousness, I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but I did realise that I was being molested…I prayed that it was not the old man with the crust in the corners of his mouth who had been touching me in a very dubious manner earlier.  My eyes managed to focus – it was much worse – it was Rose.

Rose was someone my sister apparently knew from high school, although I was more convinced she had found her somewhere behind something. At thirty-one Rose still had very bad acne, braces, she weighed what seemed to look like six hundred pounds, wore clothes meant for pre-teens, and smelt just like onions.

Rose had her hand in my pants, her pudgy little sausage fingers squeezing at my balls, her long red nails clawing in to my groin.

“Uh…what the fuck are you doing?”

“Yuh nut eveen hard for me beby, come an ge’ hard for meeee…”,she looked at me, a bizarrely desperate tone to her voice.

Very quickly I was sober.

I left off the bed. She was sobbing. I felt like Frodo looking down at Smeagol. I sighed.

“Look, it’s nothing personal, I’m just super gay.”



She stopped crying, and managed to get herself up off the bed.

“Let’s go back to the party.”


I wiped the round droplets of sweat off my forehead, and walked out of the bedroom door, almost bumping in to Anna. Anna was Rose’s antithesis. I had always had a crush on her.

“Hi! I haven’t seen you this evening.”

She smiled, “Yes you have, you told me how life was a ‘bitch and then she dumps you’.”

I cringed.

She laughed,”I was just coming to check up on you, make sure you were ok.”

“Well I am alot better now…” and this was going to be followed by something cliche’d and cheesy relating to her but then Rose walked out from behind me and patted me on the bum.

Anna’s expression drooped in to something crossed between disappointment and perhaps disgust (but I could sense it was disgust towards me and not Rose).

“Oh I see. Ok, well I was just heading home, see you around.”

She walked off, my mouth was left open and dry…god dammit, fuck.

The party had wound down, only the ghouls remained, I went digging around for more alcohol…I found a half full bottle of Jack Daniels and proceeded to drink that.

An hour or so went by when suddenly I hard a strange bellowing, “YooooHoooo…yur suster told me tha you aren’t gay….I’m coming fer yu big boooooy.”

Jesus Christ.

I stood up and fell over.

I stood up again, and went stumbling through the house.

I eventually found a door, opening it I was greeted by my sister’s boyfriend making out with someone who was not my sister, I remembered how she ratted me out to Rose, I closed the door and fumbled my way out of the house. I eventually found my car…some one had parked me in, which was probably for the best as I was in no shape to drive it anywhere,although at the time I probably would have tried my best to drive it over a cliff. I slid inside, and climbed in behind the two front seats. I buried my head in to the darkness, perhaps if I didn’t see her she wouldn’t see me.


“Aaai KNOW yu are in thar…come ut, I want tah have some fun with yu, I know THINGS.”


In her mind she was probably a sexual magician, but the emphasis on the word ‘things’ had made me bury my head deeper under the seat.

I’m not sure how long she stood there banging on the window because thankfully I passed out.

The morning sunshine cut at my hangover, and my head was filled with pain…I didn’t care as I shot around quickly to check if I was still parked in…they were gone, in one smooth motion I was up and in the driver’s seat, the car was started, and I hammered it in to reverse.

I didn’t drink again for at least two more years.

Boredom I.

I’m bored.

I look at the bottle of caffeine pills.

I place one in my mouth, then decided against it, I put a further two more on my tongue. I swallow them dry.

I then take a mouthful of water.

I look at my watch – it is time to go grocery shopping.

grocery shopping must be the single most soul destroying thing I can possibly imagine, I am walking up and down, over and over, over and over, my right arm goes up and down, over and over, over and over, I pick things I need to eat, over and over, I pick up things I would like to eat, my arms goes up and down, down and up, I can’t eat these things, so they go back, over and over, I pick up things I need to use, over and over, my arm goes up and down, over and over, I look at the other people, no one looks happy, they look mesmerized, up and down, they go past me, over and over, I try to see what they look like, I can’t, their faces all blur, the details are lost, over and over, I search for some one I know, up and down, I pick up things I would like to use, my arm goes up and down,down and up, I can’t use these things, so they go back, over and over, I am finally done, no I’m not, I have to pay still, half the pay tills are closed, the lines are extremely long.

I notice two people talking to each other. A man and a woman. The woman is standing in the left line and the man in the right line. The man has a shopping cart full of groceries. The woman has nothing. I pull up behind them.

“Excuse me. Are the two of you together?”

The man looks at me. The woman looks at me.

“Yes. Why?”

“Well you can’t hold a place in one line while standing in another.”


I look at the woman. I look at the man. They both look at me.

“When you ask me ‘why’, what the fuck do you mean?”

I am saying this loudly. People turn their heads and look at me.

The man makes a sound with his mouth. The man rolls his eyes.

I sigh.

“Ok, well I want to stand in a line, so you guys can choose, the left or the right, but pick one, and do it now.”

The woman crosses her arms. The woman looks at me.

“You can’t tell us what to do.”

“Yes. Yes I can. I am doing it right now. Pick a fucking line.”

The woman rolls her eyes. I am saying this loud enough that more people turn and look at me. The man stands up right. He obviously wants to look threatening.

“Ok. Fine, we are in the left line.”

I smile.

“Thank you”

I take his shopping cart by the handle and pull it out of the right line. I push it in to the left line.

The pay point next to me opens. The family in front of me quickly move out of the line and move to the now open right line.

The man looks at me.

“So why don’t you shout at them?”

I look at the man.

“You may possibly be the dumbest person I have come across.”

He stands upright again.

“It’s because I’m black, isn’t it?”

“No my good man, it’s simply because you are fucking stupid.”

He places a flat palm in the air.

“Don’t talk to me, talk to the…”

I cut him short.

“Shut the fuck up.”

An old lady gasps.

My line moves quicker than the left line as well the line that had just opened next to me. I feel a sense of smugness.

As I am handed my receipt it starts to rain. I move out of the exit.

People are standing around. A man goes back in to the store to purchase an umbrella.

I push my shopping cart in to the rain.

I step on to the back of my shopping cart. The shopping cart glides along the parking lot. I feel a stronger sense of smugness.

I think caffeine turns me in to a dick.


“You think too much.”

“What does that mean?”

“You see? This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

“You feel too much.”

“What do you mean?”

“You see? This is exactly the problem.”

“You’re too intense.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You see? You can’t let anything go.”

“You’re too buoyant.”


“You see? Nothing matters to you.”

“You’re too deep.”

“What makes you think that?”

“You see? Question, questions, questions and more questions.”

“You’re too carefree.”


“You see? Nothing bothers you.”

The drive home.

My foot was heavy, the car was moving.

I can’t believe she fucking said that to me. Who says that kind of shit to someone after two years of dating?

I was driving like an asshole. I geared it up, the car went faster.

Twenty four months with someone, and she drops that on me. 

I stuck in the clutch, went up another gear, I became the reason accidents happen.

Seven hundred and thirty days in a relationship, learning about who they are, growing together, learning about yourself. Birthdays, holidays, joys, dreams…

I was now doing double the speed limit.

…hopes, tragedies, heartache.

A dog stepped out in front of me.

I swerved, missed it, did not roll my car, I stopped the car, caught my breath, opened my door and checked on the dog, who then promptly jumped in my car.

Fuck it, I nearly killed her, the least I can do is offer her a lift.

I turned the keys, checked my mirrors, and started driving, slower.

I turned in to my road.

It was pretty quiet, I could only see my one neighbor standing on the pavement, pouring something on his grass.

Must be weed killer or something.

Then I saw him throw a match at it.

Wait…what the fuck?

I slammed on the breaks, my poor passenger was staring at me wide eyed.

“Dude what the fuck are you doing?”

“Oh hey, I’m cutting my grass, it was getting a bit long.”

“Cutting it? You’re mowing the grass with fire? Fire? Are you fucking retarded?”

“Nah, just lazy.”

“Dude, you better put it out or I’m calling the fucking cops.”

He shrugged, “do it, it will have finished by the time they get here.”

“I hope you set yourself on fire.”

I got the car moving again, and turned in to my drive way, where I was met by a shady looking BMW with tinted windows.

Oh great, now I’m going to get robbed, raped, murdered and raped again.

I flashed my lights, and screamed out the window, “Get the fuck out of my God damn drive way you dumb son of a bitch!”

The car rocked a bit, one of the back doors opened partially.

Here it comes, the gunshot, to my face.

A guy, who must have been in his mid-twenties, stumbled out, with his pants around his ankles, apologizing, waving his hand, he looked around while trying to cover up his penis, a female arm out stretched from the door handed him a pair of keys. Then the dog jumped out of the passenger window.

The guy tried to get in to the front door, but with no luck, the dog was faster, she grabbed him by his pants, he started screaming, the woman in the car lent outwards, she had no top on, she grabbed the guy and pulled him in, the dog kept his pants.

She ran off, up the road, proudly carrying her trophy.

The guy must not have lost his keys in the fray, crawled through to the front, he started the car and drove up the pavement and away, avoiding all eye contact with me.

I sighed, opened my gate, drove in, turned off the ignition.

How the fuck could she have said it, so calmly, so matter-of-fact?


Last night I dreamed that I was in a world where everyone had there hands over their eyes, all the time.

Everyone was blind, but we some how managed to navigate around, no one had ever thought to take their hands off their eyes.

I was with a group of friends, I had never seen their faces, we were drinking cocktails at the beach, I kissed a girl, then we went shopping for sunglasses.