Soul Searching
The day started off, as they more often did these days, with a row.
“What do you do with your day, anyway? Every time I ask you what you've done during the day, it's always some weird half-ass attempt at an answer. Do you not have any kind of memory? Are you deliberately trying to do nothing with your life? You're useless, you know that?”
From the bed, I watched her stalk naked around the apartment, her plump ass juggling about as she savagely dragged clothes out of her dresser to put on. “You're projecting!” I protested. “I'm in the process of finding a job. I guess I'm more interested in finding something that really suits me,” I attempted.
“Right. You've been saying that for the past month and a half. I stopped believing it after about ten days.”
“Oh bugger off. I really am trying. You just don't appreciate the effort that I give!”
She finished applying the last of her makeup. “You know what, I've had enough arguing with you. If you don't find something by the end of the day, I'm moving out. Period. You can find someone else to mooch off of. I'm sick and tired of paying for all of your shit. I'm going off to work now. Try not to eat everything in the fridge, you jerk.”
She grabbed her purse and yanked on the door handle.
“I love you,” I managed to say, twisting around under the covers to face the door.
“Go to hell,” she retorted, slamming the door.
I lounged around in bed for exactly seven minutes. Then I leaped out and grabbed a T-shirt and jeans. Bugger it, I decided. Might as well do something while I'm up.
Without brushing my teeth or getting breakfast, I grabbed my keys and wandered out of the apartment. I walked for about ten minutes until I came to the Mount Robinson cafe. I walked in and ordered a drink. I sat down at a table for two to wait. Shit, I thought. Should have brought something to do. I looked outside the window and admired the beautiful cloudless sky, and the bright morning sun. Around me, students from the nearby university were chatting about their courses or what kind of cat food they were feeding to their cats. Or something along those lines.
My drink came. I started sipping the hot tea and looking around, wondering what to do with my day. I noticed a rather plump, dark-haired girl sitting at the table beside mine checking her phone. I'm normally not a very shy person, so when she looked up from her phone I decided to strike up a conversation.
“Nice weather we're having!” I attempted. She smiled politely at me, then continued playing with her phone. I waited again until she put her phone away. I hate chicks with phones. Well, not really hate them. I've never met a chick without a phone, and I certainly don't hate all chicks. I suppose I can't blame a girl who has nothing to do. But there's really nothing embarrassing about sitting around waiting. It's not like I'm going to judge you because you're waiting for something to happen.
So I waited till she put down her phone, and tried again. “What's your name?” Always a good thing to get that question over with.
She looked over to me and smiled a bemused smile. I noticed one of those nose studs in her left nostril. I still can't decide if I like them or not. I once saw a very pretty girl on the bus dressed in pink who had one in each nostril. I decided having two made the girl in pink less attractive.
“I'm Celeste,” she said.
“Are you a student at uni?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“What are you studying there?”
“Photography,” she said. “Are you a student as well, or...”
“Nope,” I said. “Just a bum.” I chuckled, and swished my long hair around, trying to do a bad-ass look. The girl was unimpressed.
“Well, good luck with that,” she said. The barista came and brought her a paper bag. She took it, thanked the barista and without glancing back, left the cafe.
I went back to my drink. I suppose that went well, I thought. I drummed my fingers on the table. I figured I might as well see what my mates were up to. I pulled out my phone and started writing a text message to Peter. I had this theory. People never reply to their phones unless they think that it's a work related issue. Therefore social stuff had to be sent via text message. Therefore my dad would never understand why I consistently failed to answer the phone every time he called me. Which really wasn't very often.
As it turned out, Pete was at his flat. I walked out and after a few minutes' wait at the bus stop, caught the number 10 bus downtown. Pete lived on the second floor of a run down house near the downtown area. He worked late afternoons and evenings as a security guard at a bar downtown. I was surprised that he was already up; it was early for him.
Without ringing the doorbell or knocking, I went up the stairs and into his apartment. The window was covered with a thick red blanket, which cast an odd coloured glow through the room. There were empty beer cans everywhere. I'll save you the description of the place; I'm sure you can imagine it for yourself. Pete was sprawled out on his sofa watching TV. He looked up as I walked in.
“Heya,” he said.
“Heya, Pete.”
“The girlfriend throw you out?”
“More or less, yeah,” I replied. I plunked down on the sofa next to him. The cushions sank down about six inches, raising my knees up almost to eye level. “She's upset 'cause I can't find a job. She doesn't understand that I'm trying to do what's best for me.”
“You should try this security guard shit, man. It's easy as. Ya just need to pass an exam to be able to work, and then all you do is stand around and watch out for underage kids trying to get past and grab a drink.”
“Yeah, maybe. I hate just standing around, though. And I'm not very tough looking.”
“Ya really don't need to look tough, mate. Besides, if anything happens, the cops will back you up. Here, wanna smoke?”
“Sure,” I awkwardly moved forward out of my slump. Gratefully, I accepted the marijuana cigarette, settled down into the couch and inhaled the harsh smoke. I coughed twice, tried to sit up, coughed again and spat on the carpet. “This is harsh shit, man.”
“A bit, aye. Gets you high as fuck though.”
“Yeah. Anyway, I guess I better get going. Gotta look for jobs, and all.”
“Yeah, mate. No worries. I know how it is."
I pushed hard with my feet and got up from the sofa. I half waved, which ended up looking more like I was trying to clear the smoke out from in front of my face, and walked out the door. I blinked in the sudden harsh sunlight and tried to decide what my next move would be.
“What do you do with your day, anyway? Every time I ask you what you've done during the day, it's always some weird half-ass attempt at an answer. Do you not have any kind of memory? Are you deliberately trying to do nothing with your life? You're useless, you know that?”
From the bed, I watched her stalk naked around the apartment, her plump ass juggling about as she savagely dragged clothes out of her dresser to put on. “You're projecting!” I protested. “I'm in the process of finding a job. I guess I'm more interested in finding something that really suits me,” I attempted.
“Right. You've been saying that for the past month and a half. I stopped believing it after about ten days.”
“Oh bugger off. I really am trying. You just don't appreciate the effort that I give!”
She finished applying the last of her makeup. “You know what, I've had enough arguing with you. If you don't find something by the end of the day, I'm moving out. Period. You can find someone else to mooch off of. I'm sick and tired of paying for all of your shit. I'm going off to work now. Try not to eat everything in the fridge, you jerk.”
She grabbed her purse and yanked on the door handle.
“I love you,” I managed to say, twisting around under the covers to face the door.
“Go to hell,” she retorted, slamming the door.
I lounged around in bed for exactly seven minutes. Then I leaped out and grabbed a T-shirt and jeans. Bugger it, I decided. Might as well do something while I'm up.
Without brushing my teeth or getting breakfast, I grabbed my keys and wandered out of the apartment. I walked for about ten minutes until I came to the Mount Robinson cafe. I walked in and ordered a drink. I sat down at a table for two to wait. Shit, I thought. Should have brought something to do. I looked outside the window and admired the beautiful cloudless sky, and the bright morning sun. Around me, students from the nearby university were chatting about their courses or what kind of cat food they were feeding to their cats. Or something along those lines.
My drink came. I started sipping the hot tea and looking around, wondering what to do with my day. I noticed a rather plump, dark-haired girl sitting at the table beside mine checking her phone. I'm normally not a very shy person, so when she looked up from her phone I decided to strike up a conversation.
“Nice weather we're having!” I attempted. She smiled politely at me, then continued playing with her phone. I waited again until she put her phone away. I hate chicks with phones. Well, not really hate them. I've never met a chick without a phone, and I certainly don't hate all chicks. I suppose I can't blame a girl who has nothing to do. But there's really nothing embarrassing about sitting around waiting. It's not like I'm going to judge you because you're waiting for something to happen.
So I waited till she put down her phone, and tried again. “What's your name?” Always a good thing to get that question over with.
She looked over to me and smiled a bemused smile. I noticed one of those nose studs in her left nostril. I still can't decide if I like them or not. I once saw a very pretty girl on the bus dressed in pink who had one in each nostril. I decided having two made the girl in pink less attractive.
“I'm Celeste,” she said.
“Are you a student at uni?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“What are you studying there?”
“Photography,” she said. “Are you a student as well, or...”
“Nope,” I said. “Just a bum.” I chuckled, and swished my long hair around, trying to do a bad-ass look. The girl was unimpressed.
“Well, good luck with that,” she said. The barista came and brought her a paper bag. She took it, thanked the barista and without glancing back, left the cafe.
I went back to my drink. I suppose that went well, I thought. I drummed my fingers on the table. I figured I might as well see what my mates were up to. I pulled out my phone and started writing a text message to Peter. I had this theory. People never reply to their phones unless they think that it's a work related issue. Therefore social stuff had to be sent via text message. Therefore my dad would never understand why I consistently failed to answer the phone every time he called me. Which really wasn't very often.
As it turned out, Pete was at his flat. I walked out and after a few minutes' wait at the bus stop, caught the number 10 bus downtown. Pete lived on the second floor of a run down house near the downtown area. He worked late afternoons and evenings as a security guard at a bar downtown. I was surprised that he was already up; it was early for him.
Without ringing the doorbell or knocking, I went up the stairs and into his apartment. The window was covered with a thick red blanket, which cast an odd coloured glow through the room. There were empty beer cans everywhere. I'll save you the description of the place; I'm sure you can imagine it for yourself. Pete was sprawled out on his sofa watching TV. He looked up as I walked in.
“Heya,” he said.
“Heya, Pete.”
“The girlfriend throw you out?”
“More or less, yeah,” I replied. I plunked down on the sofa next to him. The cushions sank down about six inches, raising my knees up almost to eye level. “She's upset 'cause I can't find a job. She doesn't understand that I'm trying to do what's best for me.”
“You should try this security guard shit, man. It's easy as. Ya just need to pass an exam to be able to work, and then all you do is stand around and watch out for underage kids trying to get past and grab a drink.”
“Yeah, maybe. I hate just standing around, though. And I'm not very tough looking.”
“Ya really don't need to look tough, mate. Besides, if anything happens, the cops will back you up. Here, wanna smoke?”
“Sure,” I awkwardly moved forward out of my slump. Gratefully, I accepted the marijuana cigarette, settled down into the couch and inhaled the harsh smoke. I coughed twice, tried to sit up, coughed again and spat on the carpet. “This is harsh shit, man.”
“A bit, aye. Gets you high as fuck though.”
“Yeah. Anyway, I guess I better get going. Gotta look for jobs, and all.”
“Yeah, mate. No worries. I know how it is."
I pushed hard with my feet and got up from the sofa. I half waved, which ended up looking more like I was trying to clear the smoke out from in front of my face, and walked out the door. I blinked in the sudden harsh sunlight and tried to decide what my next move would be.