Chronologically disadvantaged
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I am feeling every second of my thirty-six years today. And when I catch a glimpse of myself in a reflective surface it becomes clear that I look a good deal older. I look like John Hurt on a bad day. This is because the force of nature that is my girlfriend took time out this weekend from gathering up London's discarded rubber bands in order to celebrate her birthday with a party at our tiny flat. I wasn't entirely enamoured of this idea. Me: You want to have a party here? There's no room. Any more than three people in this flat and it starts to resemble the Black Hole of Calcutta. You could only swing a cat in here if it was particularly small and had had all its limbs amputated. And even then you'd risk knocking over the TV. Lucy: Nonsense. We can put all the breakable stuff downstairs in the shop with our bed. Me: Why would our bed be in the shop? Lucy: Well, we'll have to move it. I'm going to turn our bedroom into a ball pool. Me: But what about when we want to go to sleep? Lucy: Silly. We're not going to be sleeping. Oh Lord. Fast forward to Saturday night. My bedroom has been stripped of furniture and is now knee-deep in multi-coloured plastic balls. The living room is entirely covered with tin foil. And the bathroom windows have been blacked out and the light bulb replaced by a UV strip light. This I find uniquely disturbing - the blacklight gives the smallest room a chthonic aspect, as if my childhood nightmare has come true and the devil really does live in the U-bend. I resolve to use the shop toilet should nature call during the party. Guests begin to arrive, and it is with sinking stomach that I realise I don't know a single one of them. Me: (sotto voce) Luce, who are all these people? Lucy: Oh, y'know. Mates. Me: I've never met any of them. Lucy: You haven't? Oh, well then... (she jumps on the sofa and hollers at the top of her voice) Everyone! (the room turns to look) This is my boyfriend, Late. Late, this (she gestures towards the assembled masses) is everyone. I force a weak smile, wave, then head off to the kitchen for some alcohol. I feel I'm going to need it. Several stiff drinks and some fortifying cheese straws later, I venture back into the living room which by now has been colonised by about a dozen happily drunk sybarites who are attempting to play Twister while covered in baby oil. There is a lot of slipping. I remember a time when this kind of party was the sort of thing I fantasized about while masturbating into a sock. Now I just worry that baby oil is going to stain the carpet. A familiar shape extricates itself from the tangle of limbs - it is my favourite diminutive Canadian, Vinnie. I am so relieved to see someone I know that I almost hug him, but, realizing that if I did he'd probably shoot out of my arms and brain himself on the light fitting, I restrict myself to a manly handshake. Me: Christ, Vinnie, am I glad to see you. Vinnie: Well, I wasn't going to miss one of Lucy's parties. They're legendary. The last one she had, some guy decided it would be cool to build a campfire in the living room. People were still toasting marshmallows when the firefighters showed up. Me: Shit. When did that happen? Vinnie: Oh, a couple of years ago. Just before she moved in here. A little alarm bell goes off in my head, and I decide to ask Lucy a couple of questions. I locate her in the ball pool, and dive in beside her. She grins like a lunatic and throws a green plastic ball at me. It rebounds off my temple. Lucy: This is great. I'm having a great time. Isn't this great? Me: Yeah, great. Look, Luce, can I ask you a question? Lucy: Sure thing, slugger. Shoot. Me: Just before you moved in with me, when you had to leave your squat... did the landlord really come back and chuck you out? Or did you, y'know, accidentally burn it down? Lucy: I didn't burn it down. Me: Phew. Thank God for that. Lucy: It was more sort of gutted. Me: Oh, holy Christ. Lucy: See? Now you're stressed. Precisely why I didn't tell you in the first place. Now I'm going to have to think of a way to calm you down. Her hand snakes down between the multi-coloured balls and finds my trouser fly. "I hope the ball pool people disinfect these after use" is the last rational thought that goes through my head. I tell you, a guy hasn't lived until he's had sex in a room full of plastic balls. And there's a sentence I thought I would never have reason to type. I perked up considerably after that and actually (whisper it) enjoyed myself. Which is why I am currently doing an impression of Death warmed up. Still, it was worth it - my beloved had a great birthday party, and I at least know what I'm going to look like in 30 years' time. John Hurt, seemingly. The Bottle Shop recommendation for today: Chateauneuf-du-Pape 2001 (France). Fruity blackcurrant flavour and the aroma of spice and smoke. Although the smoke may be coming from the campfire in your living room. Great with toasted marshmallows. £14.99
Can you smell smoke?
3.10.05 13:06
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(3.10.05 13:17) I got thrown out of a local bowling alley after I had sex in the ball pool there. I thought I was alone, but the eye of CCTV sees all. Who knew ? |
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(3.10.05 13:26) that is how you have a party! |
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Snag (3.10.05 14:00) Sounds like the kind of fun I'd like to be having. Sadly that doesn't happen so often these days. Top post, Late. |
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(3.10.05 14:03) What a brilliant girlfriend |
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(3.10.05 14:21) Lemon - trust you to get there first. Tsk. The Face - indeed. Unfortunately, the clean-up afterwards has yet to be tackled. Snag - next time we have one, you're invited. Though it may be sometime in 2010, in order to give me some time to recover. Luda - I concur. |
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(3.10.05 20:43) i do hope you sponged down your balls |
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(4.10.05 08:21) 36? You lucky bastard! When you hit 40 and look like Lemmy Kilminster, I'll let you join my club. 
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(6.10.05 11:59) Have you got your bed back yet, late? I imagine actually sleeping in a ball pool has its downsides .... ahem. |
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awsyada@yahoo.com / Website (16.6.06 11:37) Unbelievable! Liam O' Keefe |
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Brendon / Website (30.5.07 05:17) Late, it's been a while since you posted this, I'm wondering what happened with you and that crazy girlfriend of yours. Are the two of you married now? Or is any of you in drug rehab now ? I'm really curious |