Coda Josh Grant

I had a call from Jodie Maxwell last week, she wanted to catch up, so we arranged to have lunch today. We met on Lygon Street and ate Thai. Jodie bought her bulldog Pepe. Bruno and Pepe get on famously. We were walking down Lygon Street from opposite directions at the same time, Bruno and Pepe leading their respective ways, we got to our destination at exactly the same time. “How are you?” says Jodie. “I’m good, how are you?” I say. “Pepe, mate.” I pat him as Jodie pats Bruno. Pepe and Bruno bumped faces, as bulldogs do, then they both lay down super dog style facing each other. “I’m great,” says Jodie. Jodie bought a bottle of red wine, the waiter opens it for us. “Sit.” “Sit.” “How’s life?” asks Jodie. “How is that gorgeous boyfriend of yours?” “Life is good…” “Not in part to that gorgeous boyfriend of yours…” “Not in part,” I say. “Indeed.” Jodie smiles. “How’s your love life?” I ask. “Oh, you know,” says Jodie. “I need to lower my standards, if I want to be happier, apparently.” T...

I’m in the kitchen when Daniel comes steaming in with flared nostrils. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” “Wrong with me,” I ask incredulously. “What the fuck did you tell Amanda?” “What the fuck did you tell Amanda?” “Nothing,” says Daniel. “That I have a drug problem…” “Well, you do.” “I DO NOT!” I screamed at Daniel. “The only problem I have is you!” That actually pulled him up. “What?” I don’t lose my shit, never, and I just did. “If you say one more time that I have a problem with pot, so help me I will go you with a knife.” Daniel looked stunned. “Seriously, Magda Szubanski impersonations, now?” What can I say, it was unintentional, but, as it turned out, a moment of genius? “What is wrong with you?” That is what you call flipping it completely on its head. It was a complete fluke, truthfully. “Me?” Daniel was clearly undone at that moment. I’d pieced the steely armour and he was exposed. “There is something wrong? You can mask it all you like by telling Amanda that I have a drug...

I’m really happiest when I am stoned. Happier. Nicer. Calmer. Lovelier. Everything …er. I decided that I didn’t want to spend another minute in this world if I wasn’t stoned. (Not exactly, but kind of) Ha ha. My doorbell rings early, it is Amanda. “Darling, I have it all worked out.” “Finally,” I say. “Do tell?” “I’m willing to pay for you to go to drug rehab…” “What?” “To get you over your current problem?” “What problem,” I say. “I don’t have a problem.” Yes, I heard it too, quite unfortunate. If only I had said nothing. “Oh darling.” Amanda did her tinkly laugh, the one that says mother knows best and you have no idea. “I know it is a hard admission to make…” “Seriously? “Yes, darling.” “Who the hell have you been talking to…” “A mother knows, a mother know…” “Who?” I say. “Tell me!” “I told you a mother knows.” “Bullshit.” “Oh Josh, you have just sorted your private life and your professional life,” said Amanda. “Don’t mess it up now.” “What?” “Nick says he is really worried about ...

I went out for lunch with Nick. We sat in the Degrades Street and ate. We discussed work, which is always kind of hilarious, as I don’t understand Nick’s work and he doesn’t understand mine. “You know Ben is a Daniel substitute,” says Nick. “I’m sorry?” “You couldn’t have sex with your brother, so you got a look alike to fuck. And a straight boy to boot.” “Are you completely fucken nuts?” I say. “You tell me your brother fantasies,” says Nick. “And the embodiment of those fantasies is Ben.” “That is a fantasy, that is the point of fantasies,” I say. “They don’t become reality.” “Don’t they?” “Nick, you really need to put your dodgy HR psychology degree away when you leave work, it really does you no good.” “How dare you,” says Nick. “I’ll have you know I am very good at what I do.” “I have a boyfriend, and that is Ben. And that relationship is good,” I say. “You need to get a grip and deal with your own disappointments, and stop projecting them on to me.” “What?” “Hon, I mean it.” “I j...

Daniel has turned into prehistoric man, he is now communicating with grunts, when I see him that is. In the morning in the bathroom, maybe. In the evening, even less so.

Daniel is nowhere to be seen. I think he is in his bedroom watching TV every night. Something is wrong, but I don’t know what? And he’s certainly not talking about it.

Daniel asked me what I had been up to during the day. On my day off? Why do you want to know? I don’t think I mastered the straight face, got it together look, as I gazed back at him, trying to remember what the question was. He looked genuinely disappointed in my response. My family think I have a problem with dope. They are all starting to mention it. (All the ones who don’t smoke pot, really, why do you feel you even need to have an opinion, however) “Have you laid off it, even for a day,” asked Daniel. “I don’t smoke it when I go to work.” “But you smoke it when you get home.” “Not every night.” “Most nights,” said Daniel. “Okay, most nights,” I said. “So, what.” “It’s not good for you?” “Show me the research you are basing this on?” You know, seriously, I expect more from Daniel. Clearly, Amanda has gotten in his ear. “What?” asked Daniel. On the ropes I thought. “It was a very straight forward question,” I said. “Where is you peer based research on which you are basing your opini...