Coda Josh Grant

On the tram some mornings heading into town, you know those mornings I am too lazy to walk, or those mornings Daniel has spent an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom and kept me waiting, me waiting, shifting my weight from one foot to the other complaining about his beauty routine, outside the bathroom door, I am like a new puppy barely with its eyes open.  And, you know, it is really easy for my eyes to come to rest of some guy’s crotch in tight suit pants even before I realise I am even doing it.  Easy. Then, suddenly he crosses his legs, or his hand slides over the bulge in the black wool mix material. Oops. And I look up. The guy is looking at me, looking at him, looking at me, having just looked at me, looking at his, er, bits.  I look away, out the tram window closest to me, like that doesn’t make it obvious. I don’t look back. Maybe briefly if he is still on the tram when I get off. Momentarily.  You’d hate him to say anything in the middle of a crowded ...

We both woke up kind of late. I lay in bed for a short time contemplating the day, I felt okay. Eventually, Bruno rolled his head in my direction. "Oh, how much did I have to drink?" "A lot." "It feels like it," said Bruno. "This is as far as I made it." "You proclaimed you couldn't make it home and you jumped into my bed." "It's a good bed." "You're welcome." "You don't mind do you?" "Of course not." "No funny business?" "You are like a brother…" "I know your quirks, that's not saying no." "Ha ha." Bruno smiled his cheeky smile. “Did I behave?” “For the most part.” “Good to hear,” he said. Not long after I made us coffee. Bruno caught a taxi home, after I cooked him some toast. “I couldn’t face anything else,” he said when I put the toast down in front of him. “Well, that’s good then.”

Nick, Bruno, Mike and I went out drinking. We all drank multiple schooners.  Nick says, “A portrait of Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu wins the Archibald.” Mick says, “NASA launches the Kepler telescope.” Bruno says, “Michael Jackson announces his This Is It concert residency in London.” I didn’t have much to contribute. A few hours passed by pretty quickly. Nick and Mike caught a taxi back to Nick’s. Bruno and I walked to my place, Murray was away, interstate. Bruno was loud and drunk, drunker than I realised. Funny though, maybe the residents in Carlton may have thought differently. He crashed into my bed next to me, he said he was too smashed to contemplate even a taxi to get home.  He had on a pair of green wide sided jocks, in which he looked sexy. Sculptured chest, flat stomach disappearing under the green material which bulged out noticeable. Its sexy, that part of a man between his bellybutton and the elastic of his jocks. He jumped into the other side of my bed and pulled...