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Zombies of London
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1830
We (a girl and I) are walking through a darkened street in London.
The streetlights are out, it's dark, there are metal grills scattered throughout the street but someone or something has ripped through the steel leaving gaping holes, she almost steps in one and I tell her we should turn around, go another way, it's too dark, too easy to step in one and fall...
We find another way, ending in an apartment, there's a skylight, passage, older apartment with curious cupboards inset into the walls, the darkness spills in through the windows and overpowers the lights...
Somehow or another we've talked to someone and found out about the Zombie apocalypse, it was them who ripped through the grills on the street to find victims hiding in basement, the streets are deserted. A bare 60 watt bulb on the ceiling.
She goes for a walk down the hall, outside, and when she opens the door to outside I realize she's just made a big mistake...we return to the apartment, I find a cupboard with a crack to hide in, she's too slow, surrounded by 4 dead women, zombies, reaching for her, and I'm wondering if there isn't a vaccination for this...
Vindictive
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1592
J is starting to lose my sympathy fast.
Despite our numerous chats about his treacherous ex he's still texting her dopy things like "I'll miss you more than you'll ever know" and other such drivel.
"No, no" she texts back: "I'll miss you more...."
Now J's a good little churchgoer but somehow he can't shake off this little vindictive, petty fantasy he has, and insists upon sharing it with me:
"Maybe she'll end up getting married to a wife beater..."
I find these conversations, speculations painful to bear, not that I particularly care but they don't particularly suggest the enlightened spiritual view that churchgoers are supposed to have. He's starting to sense my disinterest, walking away before he finishes his sentence is one such cue, and now I'm limited to overhearing the failure of his great love (???) as he narrates it to the female staff.
a date with a goat
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1571
The owner has seated himself after lunch with a couple of older women in the restaurant.
One, perhaps mid 50's, looks like a realtor and somehow they have a prior acquaintance. The second, a tall, statuesque blonde in her 40's, is new, and the owner seizes upon the introduction to display his many charms.
And somehow, as they're sitting there chatting he discovers that she's single, and so decides that she might be a good match for a newly single friend of his, T.
Now T, he's in his mid 60's, short - in the area of five feet, bald, not exactly overloaded with charm but solvent, wealthy even.
This blonde, she's close to 6 feet.
It's not going to work, but I admire the owner's loyalty in trying to set her up with his friend. She asks me - "What do you think? Do you know him? Is he a gentleman?". I'm stuck, can't say anything, the owner saves me by cutting me off "Of course he is...put them in the book for Saturday night....".
She's been set up. The nephew and I are having a laugh, "She needs a bull, not a goat" he tells me, and I have to admire his phrasing, he's right, nailed it precisely on the head, but we'll see on Saturday night how the date goes....
Another one from the Nephew
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1665
Friday night and there's a larger group of attractive Lebanese girls in the private room. 12 to be precise, all 20 something, with that dark-eyed and attractive complexion that comes of not immersing oneself too deeply in Western Culture.
Now they're all quite pretty, but I'm not interested. I'm far, far too old and I have this prejudice that pairs people of distinct cultural influences with like-minded people of distinct and similar cultural influences....
Some are still in the hajib, they're not eating pork or drinking liquor, but otherwise they seem to be having a good time.
I ask them what's become of the Talking Waiter, we still have no word as to his whereabouts, but that's a different table and they don't know him.
The boys - Nephew and G - keep swinging by the table, chatting to them, they don't, apparently, suffer my cultural prejudices, and eventually the Nephew adds one of them to his phone.
***
Now the Nephew, he's hung over, he had a crazy night on Thursday, drinking several times what was wise and today he's hurting, bad, he's not trying to pick anyone up for this evening, just keeping a door open for later.
But when he gets home the girl begins texting him, she wants him to come over, she's at a friends and they can have a spare room....
Nephew's hurting, not interested, not tonight anyways, but she doesn't give up. Maybe he'd like to split a hotel? She's only 16, and she begins sending him nude photographs of herself....
The Nephew, he tells me this, I believe him, never does he profess the slightest shade of integrity or virtue and nothing he can do or say will even slightly alter my perception of him, he is, in my mind, complete.
And as surprised as I am that people I'd consider to be - well, more morally congruous, are not so entirely, I can't help but to think that if you were to go off the Muslim bandwagon wouldn't it be a bit less taboo to have some pork or a drink? Certainly, comparing the Nephew to a pig, the Pig is a noble beast, the Nephew should have all of the unclean associations. But that's just me.
He's too hungover, the girl keeps sending him pictures of herself in increasingly spicy poses, he eventually blocks her on his phone.
Another one from the Nephew, long to narrate and completely without point but he feels compelled to tell me, only serving to somewhat dispel any illusions I might have harboured that other cultures and religions somehow harboured any greater or more solid values than those decaying in the West.
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