Conor dragged me up the stairs and led me to a sofa. “This is my secret space,” he said. “When it is cold outside, and my friends have better things to do, I sit and read and drink expensive coffee. I’ve read complete books sitting on this sofa. I am on show to everyone, and yet, I’m also invisible.”
When you love someone so much, and you think that everything about them is perfect. Step back, and you will see that they are not perfect at all.
Musk. What does musk smell like? I don’t know. It’s a bit animalic. But I like to think that you smell musky. I smell muskiness in your absence.
The pretty boy in the blue striped t-shirt had a delicate tattoo of a knife on his arm that was erotically threatening. But he called himself Queenie, and could not sing, and murdered Sabrina Carpenter’s Espresso on karaoke. He wished me Happy Birthday, and I told him that my birthday was in April and that he had a terrible memory. But at least I am pretty, he said, and asked if I liked his singing. I looked into his olive eyes and told him that he was perfect but didn’t need to sing to impress.
There is something wrong with him. I get the feeling that something is missing up there. A few brain cells that are missing or have become warped. The pretence that he is somebody that he isn’t. The more he boasts about money and his wonderful life, the more I sympathise with him. He has the desire to be liked but cannot see that his way won’t work.
“I once met Neil Tennant in a bar,” said the stranger, “and I swear that he was wearing Primark jeans.” Why would this guy think that I might be interested in what Neil Tennant had been wearing? “Did you speak to him?” I asked.“ ”I did, but he ignored me, and I made a point of telling him that I was wearing Gucci jeans.”
“My great grandfather was good friends with Fellini,” said Aurelio who looked at the books I had bought. “They both came from Rimini. If you needed to know anything about Fellini, then Gio Carmello, with the tattoo of a boy on a dolphin, was the person to see.
“It is said that my grandfather was called Federico after his childhood friend.
“And now, you have bought a book about Fellini which makes me sad because I think of my family.
“But, if I am honest, I have never liked Fellini, because he came from an older generation, with primitive movies, and an Italy that was black and white and different to the one that I know.”
The barman poured vodka from one bottle into another. It was a soft pour, and he did it expertly. I told him that I was impressed with the accuracy at how he did it. “Easy,” he said, “I imagine that I’m pissing into your mouth.” Up to this point his face had suggested that I wasn’t there. Everything I’d said to him had bounced back with indifference. Now he had said something shocking and was calm enough not to look for a reaction. Instead, he concentrated on pouring from one bottle to the other and was satisfied that he had stopped me talking.
Hey, Super Star Destroyer. If we knew back then what we know now. The year of discovery. Friends for life and all that shit. A touch of flesh was all it would have needed, but the Angel of Grief spat from a big height.
Perfectly Hard and Glamorous 