Jodie To The Rescue
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.”
The waiter brings the wine glasses.
“According to who?”
“According to the women’s mags, of course.”
“Of course.”
The waiter takes our food order.
“Take Mr You’ll Do at 35 because that’s all that is going to be available at 40, just with five more years wear and tear, or five more years of delayed training.”
I laugh.
“You can laugh, but it is so fucking depressing it almost makes me want to change teams, but the alternative is just as depressing.”
“Oh Jodes…”
“Who wants to wear flannelette for the rest of their lives.” She makes big eyes.
I grimace.
“Oh, I know,” says Jodie. “Actually, I think it would be really nice, a girlfriend, to tell you the honest truth, I just couldn’t do the.” She made a V with her fingers into which she slid her tongue.
“It would be a requirement.”
“Make me want to get a big dildo and shares in a wine company…”
“Or a place in the country and a German Shepard.”
“I’m not quite that desperate, yet.”
“I meant for protection.”
“Although, they are big, cuddly and loyal, a girl could do worse.”
“Really not attractive,” I drop my voice, “cocks though,” I say.
Jodie laughs. “Lonely girls throughout history have found comfort in their big hairy arms…”
“Legs…”
“Of their fury protectors,” says Jodie. “Girls have done much worse.”
“Imagine taking him home to meet mum.”
“She’s always been a dog lover, maybe it wouldn’t go so badly.”
“If she saw that you were happy.”
“If she saw that I was happy, exactly.”
“What would his name be?”
“Oh, definitely Rex,” says Jodie. “Big, muscular Rex. I’d always feel safe.”
“Safe and satisfied.”
Suddenly, there was a tutt tutt coming from the next table. Old Gladys Kravitz was picking up her meal, and gathering her things, and what looked like her granddaughter, all the time looking over at us with a face full of disgust. She takes her stuff and with a serious exhale in our direction she takes her lunch and her granddaughter inside.
We watch her go. As she got to the door, she turns and says, “I weep for humanity.” Then she disappears inside.
“Well,” Jodie raises her eyebrows, “apparently, it’s not unanimous about Rex.”
“Apparently,” I say.
We both laugh. We grimace nervously. We look in the departed’s direction, then back at each other. And then laugh again.
“Who the fuck is she to rain on my happiness,” says Jodie.
“Bitch,” I say.
“She’s probably buried the poor sod she kept miserable for 50 years.”
“One day, he’d probably had enough of her icy stares and looks pregnant with judgement and simply walked into the traffic.”
“Jumped when they were day tripping in the Blue Mountains and she’s never really quite known why?”
“Poor bitch!”
The waiter bought the food.
“You know what,” says Jodie. “I’d kill for a fag.”
“Fags are easy to get,” I say. “Had for the price of a drink generally.”
“Jesus, you boys don’t even need to be bribed with a drink,” says Jodie. “I remember when you, me and Nick were in Oxford Street shopping that afternoon in Sydney and suddenly you were both gone…”
“Oh, that was just new flesh in town luck,” I say. “Twenty something years old and new in town and the Sydney guys wanted to get us before someone else had spat on us.”
“I looked around.” She laughed and swigged her wine. “How does this look? I said, and nothing. I was on my own, baby.”
“Sorry.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. The girl running the shop told me it looked good on me. How many years ago was that?”
“Too many now.”
“How is Nick?”
“Oh, you know, the same, too busy for a man, but not too busy to bitch about the lack of one in his life.”
“So, still single?”
“As the spinster she was born to be.”
“I should give him a call and we can go out on a desperate and dateless night, bitch about all the fucken men, or lack thereof, in our lives, drink too much and fall down in a gutter some place maggotted in our own vomit.”
“He’d love that.”
We both laugh.
“There’s a convenience store over the road,” says Jodie. “Fancy, getting a cigarette?”
“I haven’t smoked cigarettes for 10 years?”
“Can’t be, you were smoking last time I saw you.”
“Yeah, but that’s because of you, I’d be smoking with you.”
“So, is that a no.”
I am piss weak. “No.”
“Excellent, lets pay and get over to that store.”
“Do you ever think it is weird we say store and not shop?”
“Yes, yes I do, actually,” says Jodie. “That was me wasn’t it.”
“We all say it, it’s not just you.”
Jodie paid with a card and I gave her the cash.
“The trees have grown so much along here,” says Jodie. We cross Lygon Street together, Bruno and Pepe following behind.
As we are about to enter the shop, Jodie says, “Watch Pepe or he’ll be in the shop with me.” I grab her by the arm. “Hey, do you fancy some choof?” I ask. Her hands are just starting to divide the fly stripping hanging down, she pulls back. “Yeah, sure,” she says. “I thought you said you didn’t smoke.”
“I don’t smoke cigarettes.”
Jodie looks at me with quizzical eyes.
“It is not the same thing,” I say.
She smiles. “You mix tobacco with them?
“It’s not the same thing,” I repeat.
“O…kay.”
“Back at my place,” I say. “We can walk.”
“Lead the way,” she says. Pepe and Bruno are sniffing the same street post, we call them, and they both trot after us.
It was a nice day, the sun shone. We walked up Lygon Street to Grattan Street and turned towards the gardens.
We cross Rathdowne Street and we’re at my place. I open the front door and let Jodie go in first. Of course, the bulldogs push through in front of both of us.
“I love this house,” says Jodie.
Bruno and Pepe barrel off down the hallway as soon as we come in the front door. They rush off together side by side.
“I always forget how big it is,” says Jodie.
“You’re not the first person to say that.”
“Oh you,” says Jodie.
We head out the back through the folding doors. We sit in the garden.
I ground up a mull.
“I love your garden,” says Jodie.
“One of the reasons I bought this house,” I say. “This garden to sit in.”
I roll some cardboard into a roach.
“Not many people have this space in the inner suburbs.”
“I guess.” I say. “I’m just used to it. Call me spoilt.”
“Or smart,” says Jodie.
I open the rolling machine and deposit the roach.
“I don’t think I really knew what I was buying when I bought this place. It was that time when prices were flat, and this was only the second place I looked at.”
“Clever you.”
I pull the rolly paper from its packet.
“Lazy me,” I say. “Fluking it, fortunately, to my advantage.”
I lick the gum on the rolly paper.
“You’ve never told me this before.”
I slide the paper into the machine and close it.
“Haven’t I?”
I put the perfectly rolled joint in my mouth and light it. I take 3 puffs and then I hand it to Jodie.
“How’s your gorgeous brother?” asks Jodie.
She puffs on the joint.
I cough. “Oh.” I exhale a mouthful of smoke. “He’s in a bad place at the moment.”
“Not gorgeous Daniel?” Jodie exhales the marijuana smoke.
“His girl dumped him, which is weird because she wasn’t the one ever, but he seems to have lost his love mojo ever since.”
“Not Mr Handsome.”
“And he’s over worked and for some reason doubting himself.”
“Poor Daniel,” says Jodie. “That doesn’t sound like him.”
“And in need of cheering up.”
“Poor baby.”
“You want to cheer him up?
Jodie draws hard on the joint. “What are we talking?”
“Oh, I don’t know? Take him out for a drink, dinner, dancing, whatever, tell him he’s beautiful,” I say. “Surely I don’t need to tell you how to do these things.”
“Daniel Grant.”
“He’s a good guy,” I say. “Just a little lost at present.”
“I’ve sworn off projects, Josh, really I have.”
“It could possibly be just a one off,” I say. “I’m sure he’d be on his best behaviour.”
“He was always lots of fun.”
“You could keep it light and breezy,” I say. “It could be mutually beneficial.”
“Huh?”
“You’re always saying good men are hard to find,” I say. “And from all reports, Daniel is a good man.”
Jodie laughs. “Honestly it’s been a while.”
“I hear he’s good at it,” I say. “And you’d be helping him too.”
Jodie drew long and hard on the end of the joint.
“Win win,” I say.
Jodie laughs. “Sure, yeah, I can’t believe I am saying this, but why not,” says Jodie. “Daniel’s a dream boat. And a lovely boy.” She giggles and blushes.
“That’s my girl,” I say.
“We don’t have to tell him this…”
“No, no, not at all. Not a word. You just bump into him, laugh, flirt, and let the rest take its course, or not, just see what happens.”
“Josh, I can’t believe you have talked me into this.”
“What are friends for.”
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.”
The waiter brings the wine glasses.
“According to who?”
“According to the women’s mags, of course.”
“Of course.”
The waiter takes our food order.
“Take Mr You’ll Do at 35 because that’s all that is going to be available at 40, just with five more years wear and tear, or five more years of delayed training.”
I laugh.
“You can laugh, but it is so fucking depressing it almost makes me want to change teams, but the alternative is just as depressing.”
“Oh Jodes…”
“Who wants to wear flannelette for the rest of their lives.” She makes big eyes.
I grimace.
“Oh, I know,” says Jodie. “Actually, I think it would be really nice, a girlfriend, to tell you the honest truth, I just couldn’t do the.” She made a V with her fingers into which she slid her tongue.
“It would be a requirement.”
“Make me want to get a big dildo and shares in a wine company…”
“Or a place in the country and a German Shepard.”
“I’m not quite that desperate, yet.”
“I meant for protection.”
“Although, they are big, cuddly and loyal, a girl could do worse.”
“Really not attractive,” I drop my voice, “cocks though,” I say.
Jodie laughs. “Lonely girls throughout history have found comfort in their big hairy arms…”
“Legs…”
“Of their fury protectors,” says Jodie. “Girls have done much worse.”
“Imagine taking him home to meet mum.”
“She’s always been a dog lover, maybe it wouldn’t go so badly.”
“If she saw that you were happy.”
“If she saw that I was happy, exactly.”
“What would his name be?”
“Oh, definitely Rex,” says Jodie. “Big, muscular Rex. I’d always feel safe.”
“Safe and satisfied.”
Suddenly, there was a tutt tutt coming from the next table. Old Gladys Kravitz was picking up her meal, and gathering her things, and what looked like her granddaughter, all the time looking over at us with a face full of disgust. She takes her stuff and with a serious exhale in our direction she takes her lunch and her granddaughter inside.
We watch her go. As she got to the door, she turns and says, “I weep for humanity.” Then she disappears inside.
“Well,” Jodie raises her eyebrows, “apparently, it’s not unanimous about Rex.”
“Apparently,” I say.
We both laugh. We grimace nervously. We look in the departed’s direction, then back at each other. And then laugh again.
“Who the fuck is she to rain on my happiness,” says Jodie.
“Bitch,” I say.
“She’s probably buried the poor sod she kept miserable for 50 years.”
“One day, he’d probably had enough of her icy stares and looks pregnant with judgement and simply walked into the traffic.”
“Jumped when they were day tripping in the Blue Mountains and she’s never really quite known why?”
“Poor bitch!”
The waiter bought the food.
“You know what,” says Jodie. “I’d kill for a fag.”
“Fags are easy to get,” I say. “Had for the price of a drink generally.”
“Jesus, you boys don’t even need to be bribed with a drink,” says Jodie. “I remember when you, me and Nick were in Oxford Street shopping that afternoon in Sydney and suddenly you were both gone…”
“Oh, that was just new flesh in town luck,” I say. “Twenty something years old and new in town and the Sydney guys wanted to get us before someone else had spat on us.”
“I looked around.” She laughed and swigged her wine. “How does this look? I said, and nothing. I was on my own, baby.”
“Sorry.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. The girl running the shop told me it looked good on me. How many years ago was that?”
“Too many now.”
“How is Nick?”
“Oh, you know, the same, too busy for a man, but not too busy to bitch about the lack of one in his life.”
“So, still single?”
“As the spinster she was born to be.”
“I should give him a call and we can go out on a desperate and dateless night, bitch about all the fucken men, or lack thereof, in our lives, drink too much and fall down in a gutter some place maggotted in our own vomit.”
“He’d love that.”
We both laugh.
“There’s a convenience store over the road,” says Jodie. “Fancy, getting a cigarette?”
“I haven’t smoked cigarettes for 10 years?”
“Can’t be, you were smoking last time I saw you.”
“Yeah, but that’s because of you, I’d be smoking with you.”
“So, is that a no.”
I am piss weak. “No.”
“Excellent, lets pay and get over to that store.”
“Do you ever think it is weird we say store and not shop?”
“Yes, yes I do, actually,” says Jodie. “That was me wasn’t it.”
“We all say it, it’s not just you.”
Jodie paid with a card and I gave her the cash.
“The trees have grown so much along here,” says Jodie. We cross Lygon Street together, Bruno and Pepe following behind.
As we are about to enter the shop, Jodie says, “Watch Pepe or he’ll be in the shop with me.” I grab her by the arm. “Hey, do you fancy some choof?” I ask. Her hands are just starting to divide the fly stripping hanging down, she pulls back. “Yeah, sure,” she says. “I thought you said you didn’t smoke.”
“I don’t smoke cigarettes.”
Jodie looks at me with quizzical eyes.
“It is not the same thing,” I say.
She smiles. “You mix tobacco with them?
“It’s not the same thing,” I repeat.
“O…kay.”
“Back at my place,” I say. “We can walk.”
“Lead the way,” she says. Pepe and Bruno are sniffing the same street post, we call them, and they both trot after us.
It was a nice day, the sun shone. We walked up Lygon Street to Grattan Street and turned towards the gardens.
We cross Rathdowne Street and we’re at my place. I open the front door and let Jodie go in first. Of course, the bulldogs push through in front of both of us.
“I love this house,” says Jodie.
Bruno and Pepe barrel off down the hallway as soon as we come in the front door. They rush off together side by side.
“I always forget how big it is,” says Jodie.
“You’re not the first person to say that.”
“Oh you,” says Jodie.
We head out the back through the folding doors. We sit in the garden.
I ground up a mull.
“I love your garden,” says Jodie.
“One of the reasons I bought this house,” I say. “This garden to sit in.”
I roll some cardboard into a roach.
“Not many people have this space in the inner suburbs.”
“I guess.” I say. “I’m just used to it. Call me spoilt.”
“Or smart,” says Jodie.
I open the rolling machine and deposit the roach.
“I don’t think I really knew what I was buying when I bought this place. It was that time when prices were flat, and this was only the second place I looked at.”
“Clever you.”
I pull the rolly paper from its packet.
“Lazy me,” I say. “Fluking it, fortunately, to my advantage.”
I lick the gum on the rolly paper.
“You’ve never told me this before.”
I slide the paper into the machine and close it.
“Haven’t I?”
I put the perfectly rolled joint in my mouth and light it. I take 3 puffs and then I hand it to Jodie.
“How’s your gorgeous brother?” asks Jodie.
She puffs on the joint.
I cough. “Oh.” I exhale a mouthful of smoke. “He’s in a bad place at the moment.”
“Not gorgeous Daniel?” Jodie exhales the marijuana smoke.
“His girl dumped him, which is weird because she wasn’t the one ever, but he seems to have lost his love mojo ever since.”
“Not Mr Handsome.”
“And he’s over worked and for some reason doubting himself.”
“Poor Daniel,” says Jodie. “That doesn’t sound like him.”
“And in need of cheering up.”
“Poor baby.”
“You want to cheer him up?
Jodie draws hard on the joint. “What are we talking?”
“Oh, I don’t know? Take him out for a drink, dinner, dancing, whatever, tell him he’s beautiful,” I say. “Surely I don’t need to tell you how to do these things.”
“Daniel Grant.”
“He’s a good guy,” I say. “Just a little lost at present.”
“I’ve sworn off projects, Josh, really I have.”
“It could possibly be just a one off,” I say. “I’m sure he’d be on his best behaviour.”
“He was always lots of fun.”
“You could keep it light and breezy,” I say. “It could be mutually beneficial.”
“Huh?”
“You’re always saying good men are hard to find,” I say. “And from all reports, Daniel is a good man.”
Jodie laughs. “Honestly it’s been a while.”
“I hear he’s good at it,” I say. “And you’d be helping him too.”
Jodie drew long and hard on the end of the joint.
“Win win,” I say.
Jodie laughs. “Sure, yeah, I can’t believe I am saying this, but why not,” says Jodie. “Daniel’s a dream boat. And a lovely boy.” She giggles and blushes.
“That’s my girl,” I say.
“We don’t have to tell him this…”
“No, no, not at all. Not a word. You just bump into him, laugh, flirt, and let the rest take its course, or not, just see what happens.”
“Josh, I can’t believe you have talked me into this.”
“What are friends for.”
Comments
Post a Comment