Thirty Four

I have to admit, I felt rattled driving away. Were they going to make up? Was Lisa going to be ok? Could I really be screwing Mike over like this? Am I ever gonna think of another Harry Potter analogy?

I mean lots of things were starting to go on in my life and I wasn't sure I was comfortable with that. I've got routines, rhythms, patterns I like to follow. Did I really want that disrupted for a pair of tight hot-pants and sweet fun-bags?

Then there was Dad. Not that I like to think of Dad and fun bags in close proximity. But what was with him? Should I go and see him? I wasn't sure I could get to the bottom of things in our four allotted sentences of conversation time.

I pulled up the traffic lights and ignored the left turn that would have taken me home. I had an itching to blog to clear my head, but I didn't really need another reminder that I was disgusting someone besides myself. I let the road take me into town and ambled around the shops for a while.

Pretty soon I ended up where most aimless, mostly unemployed space cadets ended up, at Gary's shop.

I expected him to be lounging over the counter like usual, but I he was nowhere to be seen when I walked into the gloom of his downstairs sales cavern. I checked out Gary's pre-release DVD's, most of which were still playing at the cinema. If I could speak Korean I would have been tempted to buy one.

Gary emerged from the little store room out the back smelling suspicious. 'Twice in one week? You feeling ok?'

'I just couldn't go another day without smelling your B.O. again.'

Gary sniffed his pits. 'That's not B.O.'

'I know.' For some reason, my banter was off. No donuts for guessing Gary's excuse.

He signalled for me to come closer as he rounded the counter. 'Muffin alert. Back row. How do I look?'

'You're an adonius. I don't how she's keeping her distance.'

Gary acknowledged my touch down with a fake smile and got over it instantly. 'I think she likes me.'

I tried to get a look at her but all I could see was a tuft of brunette hair behind an end-of-row Spiderman display rack.

'She's your type.'

'Yeah?' he said hopefully.

'She's got hair.'

He pulled back and dusted his not so fake bong display. 'Have you cleaned one bowel too many?'

I guessed I was being a touch acidic. I shrugged. 'Long night.'

'Need some hand cream?'

'Got any left?'

We both raised our hands. Gary looked over my shoulder. 'Shut up man, she's coming over.'

I nodded and pretended to be engrossed by the nearest CD I picked up - The Great Celebrity Sing Off.

'Hey,' said Mike to his intended victim.

'Hi.'

The CD really was engrossing me. William Shatner sings Mr Tamborine Man? And I thought he looked bad in Star Trek. He didn't even bother sucking in the polyester pot-belly at the end.

'You're really pretty and I like you already. Do you wanna go out?' said Gary. 'You don't have a boyfriend do you?'

You have to love Gary's style.

'Er...'

No way, Leonard Nimoy sings "If I had a Hammer"? I put the CD down, just knowing I was going to have William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy starring in my nightmares.

'Well, no, I don't.'

I looked up from the flower rimmed CD cover. I was assaulted by a bag-dress.

Thirty Five