Six Sleeps

After all day running a workshop I got home at six. I had plans to be a good girl and type up my Uni essay about Gerald Murnane, watch NCIS and sleep. Then I got a phone call.

‘I’ve run out of peanut butter and I can’t have a bottle of wine for dinner AGAIN, what are you buying me for dinner?’

It was Todd. With a jolt I realized, this time (6.30pm) next week he would be on a plane back to the States, for good.

What can I say, I’m weak. ‘I’ll see you on the corner of Crown and Cleveland at 7’

At 6.58 I received a text message, ‘Holy Crap. Drinks Expensive.’ I guessed I was late, standing at the traffic lights to the agreed destination.

After a quick pre-dinner drink we walked along Crown Street. The pizza place smelt good, the Vietnamese didn’t take Amex. The bottle shop did well, and CowBirdFish saw us sat at a table for two with corkage.

Despite me having made no effort and wearing lesbian shoes (flat sandals) and Todd in a sleeveless t-shirt that expressed affiliation with a sport team (I think) we were treated as if we were royalty. We had oysters to start ‘The special is freshly shucked oysters from South Australia.’ ‘SOLD!’ Barramundi and Salmon for main and cheese and meringue for dessert. Is it really only Tuesday?

We chatted about the usual and not so usual sh*t. Boys, books, boats, the movie ‘Airplane’, mountains and driving while we ate and drank a daft amount for a school night. Red, dessert and port. The waiters were really nice. Maybe they realized they were going to get a 30% tip early on, or maybe they were feeling generous.

- The Empty Chair

After two final glasses of port we adjourned to a less civilized establishment for a final drink of the evening. It was only half nine and the night was young, time for one more. JD&dietCoke for me, VodkaTonic&lime for him. Just the one. One AM, maybe.

It reminded me of when we first met. Working at TheBank, two oddballs in a bunch of suits. One straight as a die girlie with terrible fashion sense and a talent for making scrabbled egg in the microwave and one corporate suit that had long ago learnt to play the game. He, an unusually smart American (compared to others I had met) that had a knack of being in the right place at the right time, she a married Brit not reaching her true potential. Many a Thursday evening was spent in bars talking, having ‘just the one’ (one AM) and soon she (me) realized, I could take the bus!

I did take the bus, he’s taking a jet plane in less than seven days. I’ve been drinking since seven pm, give me a break and indulge me while reminisce about my friend who is pissing off and leaving me, It’ll all be over soon and normal broadcasting with resume, but bear with while it does, please.