Telling Nick
I had lunch with Nick, somewhere local to me, because Nick likes to be sporty, riding, or jogging. At least, he arrives in sports clothes, claiming to have ridden, or jogged, the sweat, or the bike aren’t always obvious.
I got there first and got a seat outside. I was looking at the menu when Nick arrived.
“Hi Dohl, fancy some fresh air, did we?”
“What?” I replied. I was a little confused. “We often sit outside.”
“Er!” Nick grimaced.
He wasn’t sitting down straight away.
“Have your ordered coffee? Should I order coffee? Do you want coffee? What a stupid question, look who I am talking too? I’ll order coffee.”
He was dressed head to toe in black, a tight tshirt and active wear pants. It was either the outfit he wanted me to notice. Or, had he lost weight? Did he think his gym work was showing? Perhaps he had a new haircut, I laughed to myself at that thought.
“I’ve ordered coffee,” I said. “You just need to order for yourself.”
“Oh, just lovely…”
“What are you talking about?” I said. “Sit down, the waiter will be out in a second.”
“Oh, you think…”
Oh, what the fuck, anything to get him to sit down. “Your workouts are paying off.”
Nick beamed. Self focused, or what? But we knew that already.
“Oh.” He twitched his nose in approval. “You think?” He did a twirl, super model style, with a self aggrandising head flick. Then he sat down. “Where’s the menu, I haven’t eaten yet today, I’m famished.”
I couldn’t help myself. “Weren’t you wanting coffee.”
“The waiter will be here in a jiff, no doubt.”
And the waiter did appear in a jiff and take our orders. He looked from Nick to me and then back again to Nick, chewing gum.
“How have you been?” I asked Nick once the waiter had left.
“Splendid. You?”
“Yeah, good. Every thing’s good.”
“How’s Brad Pitt?”
“I told you that, did I?”
“Yes, dohl,” said Nick. “Have you had your updated dementia test?”
“Fuck off.”
“What did he say about it?”
“Have I told him?” Had I? I can’t remember.”
“So, so, so…” Nick waved his hands at me. “That must make you Angelina Jolie.”
“I’ll take that,” I said. “She’s gorgeous.”
“Oh, dohl, you wanna spend your life yaking up into the bog after every meal.”
“How do you know that?”
“Common knowledge, babe,” said Nick. “You’ll have to get yourself a collection of rainbow coloured fucken children.”
“And a people mover?”
“Oh, I forget, Brad’s already proved himself to be fertile, hasn’t he? When’s that one due?”
“6 months ago,” I said.
“Jees, already? Don’t they cook them as long, now?”
“Same time they’ve always cooked them.”
“And you’re not worried that he’ll go back to Jen Aniston because of it?”
“Well, no,” I said. “I’ve got something to tell you.”
The waiter arrived with pancakes and mixed berries for Nick and a big breakfast for me. Coffee followed.
“Oh, oh, oh, this looks delish.”
“That must be a million calories?”
“Good thing I have an extraordinary metabolism…”
“That’s not what you were saying last time we went shopping and you had to buy a size 34 pants?
“Oh, dohl, that was those Japanese name brand pant,” said Nick. “Everybody knows the Japanese are freakishly small.”
“What?’
“Stands to reason.”
I cut my sausage up and pushed avocado onto my fork with it. “Ben asked me to marry him.”
“What?”
“He got down on his knee, and all.”
“And what did you say?”
“What could I say?”
“What could you say?” Nick’s voice raised up to a squeak.
“I know some people…”
“Gay?”
“Think it’s the bees fucken knees, but it’s not for me
“Not for you?”
“How does a failed heterosexual institution do any of us any good?”
“I can't believe you,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to have a boyfriend and to get married and you meet Mr Perfect and get every fucken thing.”
“You’re not pleased for me?” I couldn’t help myself.
“I hate you,” Nick said. “You get everything, and you are still turning your fucken nose up at it.”
“So, what are you saying? I should get married to please you?”
“No, of course not,” said Nick. “What did you say to Ben?”
“Yes, of course.”
“With no intention of going through with it.”
“I’ll talk him out of it, it’ll just take some time.”
“You are worse than awful…”
“What are you saying?”
“You’re perfect fucken boyfriend asks you to marry him and you lie to him for his trouble.”
I sipped my coffee.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure one day you’ll get to wear the dress.”
“That’s not even funny.”
“Well, one day your prince will come…”
“My prince? My prince? My prince? All I ever get is frogs.”
I got there first and got a seat outside. I was looking at the menu when Nick arrived.
“Hi Dohl, fancy some fresh air, did we?”
“What?” I replied. I was a little confused. “We often sit outside.”
“Er!” Nick grimaced.
He wasn’t sitting down straight away.
“Have your ordered coffee? Should I order coffee? Do you want coffee? What a stupid question, look who I am talking too? I’ll order coffee.”
He was dressed head to toe in black, a tight tshirt and active wear pants. It was either the outfit he wanted me to notice. Or, had he lost weight? Did he think his gym work was showing? Perhaps he had a new haircut, I laughed to myself at that thought.
“I’ve ordered coffee,” I said. “You just need to order for yourself.”
“Oh, just lovely…”
“What are you talking about?” I said. “Sit down, the waiter will be out in a second.”
“Oh, you think…”
Oh, what the fuck, anything to get him to sit down. “Your workouts are paying off.”
Nick beamed. Self focused, or what? But we knew that already.
“Oh.” He twitched his nose in approval. “You think?” He did a twirl, super model style, with a self aggrandising head flick. Then he sat down. “Where’s the menu, I haven’t eaten yet today, I’m famished.”
I couldn’t help myself. “Weren’t you wanting coffee.”
“The waiter will be here in a jiff, no doubt.”
And the waiter did appear in a jiff and take our orders. He looked from Nick to me and then back again to Nick, chewing gum.
“How have you been?” I asked Nick once the waiter had left.
“Splendid. You?”
“Yeah, good. Every thing’s good.”
“How’s Brad Pitt?”
“I told you that, did I?”
“Yes, dohl,” said Nick. “Have you had your updated dementia test?”
“Fuck off.”
“What did he say about it?”
“Have I told him?” Had I? I can’t remember.”
“So, so, so…” Nick waved his hands at me. “That must make you Angelina Jolie.”
“I’ll take that,” I said. “She’s gorgeous.”
“Oh, dohl, you wanna spend your life yaking up into the bog after every meal.”
“How do you know that?”
“Common knowledge, babe,” said Nick. “You’ll have to get yourself a collection of rainbow coloured fucken children.”
“And a people mover?”
“Oh, I forget, Brad’s already proved himself to be fertile, hasn’t he? When’s that one due?”
“6 months ago,” I said.
“Jees, already? Don’t they cook them as long, now?”
“Same time they’ve always cooked them.”
“And you’re not worried that he’ll go back to Jen Aniston because of it?”
“Well, no,” I said. “I’ve got something to tell you.”
The waiter arrived with pancakes and mixed berries for Nick and a big breakfast for me. Coffee followed.
“Oh, oh, oh, this looks delish.”
“That must be a million calories?”
“Good thing I have an extraordinary metabolism…”
“That’s not what you were saying last time we went shopping and you had to buy a size 34 pants?
“Oh, dohl, that was those Japanese name brand pant,” said Nick. “Everybody knows the Japanese are freakishly small.”
“What?’
“Stands to reason.”
I cut my sausage up and pushed avocado onto my fork with it. “Ben asked me to marry him.”
“What?”
“He got down on his knee, and all.”
“And what did you say?”
“What could I say?”
“What could you say?” Nick’s voice raised up to a squeak.
“I know some people…”
“Gay?”
“Think it’s the bees fucken knees, but it’s not for me
“Not for you?”
“How does a failed heterosexual institution do any of us any good?”
“I can't believe you,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to have a boyfriend and to get married and you meet Mr Perfect and get every fucken thing.”
“You’re not pleased for me?” I couldn’t help myself.
“I hate you,” Nick said. “You get everything, and you are still turning your fucken nose up at it.”
“So, what are you saying? I should get married to please you?”
“No, of course not,” said Nick. “What did you say to Ben?”
“Yes, of course.”
“With no intention of going through with it.”
“I’ll talk him out of it, it’ll just take some time.”
“You are worse than awful…”
“What are you saying?”
“You’re perfect fucken boyfriend asks you to marry him and you lie to him for his trouble.”
I sipped my coffee.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure one day you’ll get to wear the dress.”
“That’s not even funny.”
“Well, one day your prince will come…”
“My prince? My prince? My prince? All I ever get is frogs.”
Comments
Post a Comment