Twelve hours to score

01

It’s 9:41 when I finally awaken. My head is pounding and

the stench of stale cigarettes makes me wanna gag. There’s
an ashtray with something that looks like shit about 2 feet
away from my head and it’s overpiled with cigarette butts. I
look around the room and realise I’m at Kimberly’s house.
Nikki is asleep sitting up in the comfy chair across from me
and she looks a total fukn mess. Her hair is damp and
knotted in all directions, like a scarecrow’s I guess, quite
amusing considering she’s a hairstylist. She wears pink
briefs which look damp and she has the plastic shower
curtain wrapped around her like a cheapskate toga.
The tv is on but the sound is muted which is just as well as
it’s just some shit infomercial about some revolutionary
exercise piece of shit.

I go to the bathroom, take a piss, splash my face and help

myself to someone’s deodarant (summer scents).
I find myself some watered down premix orange juice in
the fridge, pour a glass, down it, then pour a second to
wash down the Nurofens I find on top of the fridge.

Surveying the disaster that is Kims’s lounge room I take it

upon myself to do a quick clean up since I was probably
responsible for a large portion of this mess. So armed with
plastic bags I start collecting empty beer cans and bottles,
UDL cans, empty cig packs, overflowing ashtrays, KFC
packets and napkins, newspaper rolled into balls, 7 burst
balloon remnants, 2 intact and one unused (and unravelled)
condoms, 1 vodka bottle, 1 Jim Beam bottle, 1 scotch bottle
and 2 Kahlua bottles, all empty.

I take out the bags of trash to the wheelybin, which is not

in its normal spot, instead it sits by the gutter waiting for
collection as this is obviously garbo day. It’s about ¾ full
so I drop them in then go back inside, the sun being a bit
too bright for this hungover mind to handle.

Settling back into my nest upon the couch, I notice a lone

cig butt under the coffee table.
I pick it up and flick it at Nikki, it’s her brand (B&H) and it
lands in her hair just above her left ear.
New age hair accessories for the wasted.

I reach for the remote and activate the radio, Triple J is

playing that song about the mobile phones being little these
days…
It is followed by Rage against the machine, it starts loud
but I manage to drop the volume as Nikki stirs for a brief
moment, then resumes her slumber.
Then suddenly I turn it up again, full volume this time
WAKE UP!!!!
Her eyes snap open, she looks around and murmurs
sumthing about the little girls room, stands up and marches
for the bathroom. You can sense the urgency.

The door to Kim’s room opens and Steve walks out all
dazed and confused and heads straight for the fridge to see
if there’s any beers or UDLs left over from the previous
night’s binge, chillin in the fridge for him, no such luck, so
he settles for the cold water bottle, pouring it into a glass,
sculls it, pours another, repeat, then a third glass of which
he only drinks half.

“How you feelin?” he asks me.

“Yeh, you know… like shit,” I reply.
“Yeh, yeh … me too. Hey uh… do you have any ciggies?”
he asks.
“Nah…sorry,” and I genuinely feel bad, but it’s ok, turns
out he’s got some.
Steve continues, “I got some man, well two exactly, one of
them’s yours bro!”
“Cheers Steve.”
“You know what would be good right now?A bit of a
choof… heyyyy, wait a minute we got some in that
cigarette box”
He looks around anxiously, not seeing any ciggy packets,
since I cleaned up before.
I tell him this much, that I put the cig packs and bottles into
2 bags that I threw into the bin on the side of the road out
the front of Kimberly’s house. Out the front to be collected
today.
We both sense the emergency and pissbolt out to the street
like clowns escaping a volkswagon.
Steve’s winning and he beats me but when he opens the bin
he’s disappointed.
“It’s empty! We’re too fukn late...”
“Damn wheelybin’s been emptied with some nice buds in a
Marlboro Red pack amongst the rubbish, no!! What a
waste! And its my fault, I never shoulda cleaned up.”
“Hey don’t worry, you didn’t know, you weren’t to know
man, its okay… Maybe some dero at the dump will be
wading thru our trash one day and discover it by accident,
that be better than it being landfill I guess,” Steve says,
always an optimist.
We’re walking inside again and Steve casually says
“We can always get some more…”

02

And I realise, “Yeh.. we know stacks of people.”

So once inside Steve starts making phonecalls and it’s a
good thing Kimberly’s asleep cos the hood is clocking up
plenty, most of them to mobiles and it’s mainly answer
machines for message banks and even tho he leaves a
number you know none of them will bother to call back.
Too paranoid to call in case the phone’s bugged.

“The stupid thing is it’s before midday,” Steve informs me

“and these galahs who are too scared to answer don’t work
so’s they’re always at home usually sittin by the phone” he
grunts, “just fukn lazy I guess”
“They could be sittin on the throne” I suggest
“True, quite true.”
“But they’ve probably got an extension to that office”
“Also a factor.”
“Well...”
“I’ll try some other numbers and if no answer, we’ll go for
a drive, ok?”
I just know it won’t be a quick drive.
We spend hours driving around, most people (contacts)
weren’t home or are simply pretending not to be there.
Some also appeared to have moved out some time before,
the new resident not knowing the current whereabouts of
pill-poppin Pete (or three P’s as we used to call him) only
that the people who sought after 3 P’s always seem to wake
him up at ungodly hours.

We show up at Kevvy’s flat and the doors are wide open.

We knock, call out his name then enter pretty certain we
heard a murmur of recognition of one’s name.
We find Kev crashed out on the couch, the tv on with the
sound down low. He is doing crosswords from that mag full
of competitions and shit. Some people get addicted to that
shit. Me, I’ve never finished one. Canna be bothered, si?
Time-ravaged Kev is bombed outta his mind and hardly
coherent for a conversation but we hang out there for a
while enjoying some nice, crisp, cold beers, corn chips and
a selection of dips.

Steve asks if he can hook us up a chennyfive, just assuming

he’s stocked but he’s telling us he’s got absolutely nothing
but admitting it’s a lie by staring down to his left nervously,
especially again when he says “I really wish I could help
you guys out”
but his body language’s saying ‘Nah couldn’t give a fuck.’
So we leave.
Next we visit Gelo in the granny flat behind his parents’
and we smell that freshly smoked reefer smell but he’s
spinning us shit about how he’s got none, a drought!
Fukn bullshit that, just a greedy cunt more like.
Gelo loves it when people share with him, but he still
hasn’t learnt how to share back yet. He’s a dodgy character
and I’ve never felt comfortable about him, but when you
are desperate these are the D-grade friends you resort to
visiting in the vain hope they’ll send us some weed.
Once it’s established that Gelo is a useless prick we make
excuses and leave. He wants us to stick around, hang out
with him but I can think of better things to do rather than
watch him play video games endlessly as is always the
case.
More people to visit, track down.

Dodgy Dave is not home, his missus informs us, he’s down
at the centrelink handing his form in and fuck that was over
3 hours ago and he’s still not back so we agree to we’ll visit
again later and return to our car, defeated.
I read the clock on the car’s dash.
3:53.
“It was eleven o’clock when we started chasing, thought
it’d be easy but no fuckin luck today, just a lotta anti-
climaxes”
“Nearly 5 hours and no fukn result. Fukn bullshit this!”
“There is another option,” Steve starts, rather hesitantly,
“I know you don’t wanna go there but, y’know, old mate
Chopper Wood?”
Chopper Wood has been moving down the alphabet ever
since I met him at a D-grade friend’s place six months ago.
Wood is currently an X-grade acquaintance, his presence
can be avoided by not having contact with him, but every
now and then you’re just yearning for a smoke-up and he’s
always got grass. He just makes you suffer his company
first to see how determined you are. It’s his business apart
from the woodchopping which has died down lately but is
great to stir him with.

So we’re knocking on the idiot’s door and we hear him yell

“Awwrite, awwrite! Hold ya horses!”
We hear him unlock two locks and the door opens as far as
the restraining chain will allow it. He sees it’s only us.
Looks sorta dissappointed, like he was expecting girls.
“Steve! Jeff! How goes? Did anyone follow ya here? It’s
just you two? No one waiting in the car?
“Nah man, nah,” I say
(“Paranoid freak” I think to myself)
He unlocks the chain and we enter his place.

Chopper has a trophy display type living room- a big screen

tv that is never on (presumed broken) but still employed for
its bigness. An impressive stereo system which also, never
seems to play music or do anything despite its giant
speakers which are obviously just there for looks too.
I think Chops loves the sound of his own voice so much,
that he views the stereo and tv as competition to his
amusing comedy routines. Either that or he’s just too plain
stupid to work out how to use them.
He’s one of those people who are funny without really
attempting to be humourous, just the uneducated phrases he
strings together sometimes, not really knowing what the
words mean, just that they sound good.
One thing that always makes me laugh is the assortment of
books, novels, encyclopedias that adorn the entertainment
cabinet. The showoff cunt can’t even read!
And so I tune out and I’m thinking of that spunk Amanda
who works at the supermarket, the one with the black hair
with 2 blonde streaks, one on the left, one down the middle.
I wonder if she’d be working today. Tryin to think of an
excuse to go to the shop today to find out.
More coffee?
And everyone’s favourite dealer Chopsie the woodsman is
regurgitating the oft-repeated theory of video cameras in
the poker machines, thus affecting who wins and why are
they letting him win so much lately?
His phone rings and he has a very vague convo with an
unidentified caller for about 30 seconds then click.
No more said.
Silence.
Steve is watching the speedboats in the painting on the wall
waiting for them to take off.
Chopper goes to say something but his phone rings and this
time he’s vaguer
“Hmmm.. dunno…”
When the call’s over Steve sits up in his chair and asks
Chopper straight up, “So you got any?”
“Might have… depends, why were you..”
His phone rings cutting him off.
He answers and this time he gets up walking with the
mobile phone out of his trophy room out thru his laundry
and we hear the screen door at the back open and close.
Must be business, or pleasure, possibly some skanky ho
who needs some gear but has no income so some
arrangement will be made so that everyone is happy, troya
with her drugs and Mr. Wood with a freshly polished knob.
This is only speculation but apparently it happens all the
time.
We look around his room wondering where it is all stashed
but there’s too many drawers and possible hiding spots and
I wouldn’t be surprised if there was hidden video cameras
recording us now. That’s how paranoid this guy is, thinks
everyone is out to get him, rip him off and you know he’s
exactly right. He’s ripped off so many people thru scabby
deals and wasted many hours of our time just like he’s
doing now. We can see what he’s doing, he’s dragging it
out, making us suffer and persevere his bullshit stories and
rants so we hang out with him like we’re his friends or
something. He could easily serve us and we’d be on our
way but he knows this and wants to stretch the visit out,
he’s obviously starved for company. I don’t think he
realises how painful this is, how frustrated we are, sitting
here acting patient. Maybe he does and is deriving some
sick pleasure from making us starve. Thing is the chopper
man doesn’t smoke pot anymore so there’s no chance of a
complimentary sesh while we wait.
He returns to the room, pocketing his mobile phone and
grabbing his keys.
“Boys, I gotta go for a drive and I don’t trust youse to stay
here so you’re coming for a ride too,” he tells us in a
manner that suggests we don’t have a choice if we want
what we want we do as he says. Always believed Chop
would make a good dictator, but the guy would be so good
at the job and people would hate him instantly. So in the
end his dictatorship would probably be overthrown within a
week.
Steve interjects “How about you just fix us up with a quick
deal and we can be..”
“Nah! Nahhh! First things first.”
He pauses to pick his nose, flicking it at the tv screen.
“I have to be at this place in 5 minutes so youse’ll have to
wait. Priorities its called. Youse are not priorities, ok?
What’s that saying? Beggars can’t be paupers...”
Another pearl of wisdom from the mouth of the fool they
call Chopper Wood.
But we’ve been told so we follow him obediently to his
duco and I jump in the back seat, not wanting to be seen
riding in the front seat of this town’s most infamous dealer.

Chopper starts his car and immediately some poxy pop

song blares out from the car speakers. It sounds like Nikki
Webster. Chopper looks somewhat slightly embarrassed cos
his cover as a hard cunt has been blown, so he quickly the
the volume down and ejects the cassette from the tape deck,
but its too late, we’re already laughing at his indescretion.
“It’s the girlfriend’s tape,” he reckons “I don’t know how it
got in there” he says looking away, but you can tell he
secretly loves lil Nikki’s bubblegum pop.
Steve puts another tape in, Baby Animals! Much better.
This mission musn’t be that much of a priority cos we take
a detour of the main street first, driving the circuit twice
slowly, when we spot some fresh skirt walking the
sidewalk, and faster when we get to the speedbumps. On
the second lap we drive past some girls Steve knows.
He waves, they wave back so we pull over and wait for
them to walk over.

“Arsem if they’ll all give us blowies?” says Chopper as

they approach, loud enough for them to hear.
“Hey how you doin?” Steve addresses the slim brunette
that I’m sure he’s hooked up with on several occasions.
“Hey baby,” she replies with a smile, leaning in giving him
a semi-hug and a kiss on each cheek, “whatcha doin?”
“Hey we’re uh, tryin to score some smoko.”
She eyes him with a confused look, she’s thinking ‘you’re
in the car of a dealer and you cant score? What the fuck, is
he takin the piss?’
Chops is getting nervous as a police car drives past on the
other side of the street.
“How much you getting?”one of the other girls asks.
“Dunno, probly a fifty bag” Steve replies, hoping to
impress the girls who stand there playing with their hair.
I know the reality is we can only afford a twentyfive unless
Steve has more money than he let on.
“Hey well if you can, get a quarter and I’ll take half and I’ll
pay you back next week,” she lies and you can sense
Steve’s getting uncomfortable because he knows that she’ll
never pay up, and we don’t have the money up front to pay
for a quarter ounce.
“Uh, yeh…we’ll see,” he says and she smiles.
Her friend stands behind her, fidgeting with her black bag.
Says nothing. She’s a bit short but also very cute and she
seems vaguely familiar, but I cant place where I’ve met her
before.
Think her name’s Suzie, not sure.
“Well what are you doin now girls?” Steve ventures with
hands like sayin, c’mon…
“Aah we’re just hanging out. We gotta meet someone at
five o’clock. Yeh so...”

I look at my watch, it says 5:07.

“All right then giz us a call later if ya, y’know… if you
wanna do something” Steve says with a wink.
“Ok, see ya!” all the girls dance and we drive off.
Chopper’s silence ends and he starts complaining about
being late for the appointment that he had to be at in 5
minutes, 15 minutes ago.
Fukn whinging cunt, it was his idea to come up the street in
the first place and now he’s turning it into our fault.
He still finds time for one last lap and I wave to Sandra as
we drive past the post office. She is looking good in white
pants and a soft blue top, her hair up in a bun.

We exit the main street and Mr. Wood puts his foot down,
cutting extreme corners in order to get to his destination on
time.
As it turns out the place he had to go to was just around the
corner from his place. We in fact passed it before on the
way uptown, which like everything else he does, is just a
complete waste of time.
Me and Steve wait in his car as he says he’ll be back in a
sec. We watch as he disappears thru a gate at the side of the
house obviously preferring the back door entrance.
“So who were those girls up the street?” I ask.
“Oh them,” Steve pauses “That was Jenny and uh… I don’t
know her friends name.”
He smiles, “Not bad hey?”
He continues “You notice how quiet Chopper was before
when I was chattin with Jenny?”
“Yeh.”
“Well a few weeks back the cunt was stirring me up, sayin
that that he’d fucked her before and after me. Spinning
unbelievable shit like him and the freak double teaming her.
I knew he was fulla shit and he just proved it before. Too
scared to even talk to her.”
Steve’s mobile rings and he has a quick “Hello...nah not
yet...maybe...seeya” conversation.
He tells me “That was Gelo wanting to know if we’ve
scored yet and can he get some off us and he’ll fix us up on
Saturday night?”
He’s made that promise before and we both remember how
difficult it is to find Gelo on a Saturday night especially
when he owes you money.
“We could call back around to Dave’s, see if he’s made it
back from Centrelink yet?”
“Well what about Chopper? Should we wait and see what
sort of buds he’s got at least? He might be pickin some up
from here.”
“Man we’ve been waiting here for nearly half an hour.”
My watch reads 5:27
“He’s purposely taking his time, doing his best to piss us
off.”
“Yeh well my car’s just around the corner, 2 blocks away.
We might as well walk.”

03
So we get out, leaving his car unlocked, windows down and
walk for a few minutes until we get to Steve’s car and
we’re hunting again.

First stop Dave’s but surprise surprise, he’s still not home.
His girlfriend’s spewing too, seems we arent the only
visitors looking for him today.
“Tell him to giz a call when he gets in, ok?” Steve tells her,
but we’re not gonna hold our breaths waitin.

So back to the car and the sun’s starting to set and we’re
hungry so we go thru the maccas drive thru for four 30c
soft serve cones cos when you think about it that’s 2 serves
of ice cream for 60c and we’re at the counting shrapnel
from the floor of the car time.
We exit maccas and find a good spot to park where there
are plenty of girls driving by, having just finished work.
I turn the radio up cos its that Dollarbar song about cute
girls having the best diseases and I’m thinking about Kasia
and that weird, wired morning that I knew her for 3 hours
or so and I’m wondering if I’ll ever see her again and if
she’ll be ok and those bruises around her face from her
boss.
A little green car flies past, horn blaring, hands waving,
then it turns around, comes back and parks next to us.
It’s Kristy and Joanne and I’m guessing they’ve been
drinking at the uni bar again. We tell them we’re looking
for weed and Kristy tells us she knows where we might be
able to buy some so we jump into the back seat of her car.

“Just chuck those books and shit on the floor,” she says.
I’m seated behind Joanne and the smell of her perfume
makes me woozy and I feel like stroking her streaked
blonde hair. She never really says much, and I think that’s
what makes her more attractive, the mystery that surrounds
her where as Kristy’s so in ya face you can’t escape and she
tells everything, leaving no secrets for later.

We’re driving down the main street again and we stop for
some pedestrians and it’s an exgirlfriend with her mother
but they don’t notice me in the back seat as I’m trying to
blend in with the upholstery.

Kristy parks a couple of houses down from dodgy Dave’s.

Steve gives her the money and she casually walks over to
knock on his door. The sister answers and Kristy’s talking
to her for no more than 20 seconds before walking back to
us with a smile that says ‘sorry’.

We tell her we’ve already been here twice today and she
asks if we’ve been to Chopper’s yet and we tell her how he
fucked us around for hours and she says she knows exactly
what we’re talking about, and man she looks good in that
tight lime green top.
A lot of guys around town reckon she’s a lesbian but I’m
not gonna hold that against her. Good on her I say.
She drives us around to a few more places, 2 of them not
home, the third one, she’s in there a while so it looks like
we’re gonna get a result, cos she’s in there for at least 20
minutes or maybe it just seems that long cos we’ve been
hanging all day.
Steve makes several attempts at getting a conversation
going with Joanne but it’s almost impossible cos she just
says yes or no or dunno and leaves it at that.
She seems depressed and the beers Kristy wouldve made
her polish off at the club wouldntve helped.
She’s like the flipside to Kristy’s personality, but Kristy
tries so hard to remodel her in her own image.
When Kristy finally returns to her car she looks stoned like
she just had a sesh with whoever there and she tells us
phone calls were made and this guy can line something up
for us at about 10 tonight.
I look at the watch… 7.23
That means we got a 2 and a half hour wait, so we decide to
keep looking.
Kristy decides she’s hungry now (definitely had a sesh) and
cant decide if she wants kebabs or subway, so she flips a
coin – heads means kebabs and tails for subway.
It’s tails so we park out the front and we all go in with her.
She orders a meatball sub on a 6 inch roll and gets a regular
drink and cookie with it. She gives Joanne the cookie and
we sit down at a booth so’s they can munch out. Kristy
insists that we all drink some of her drink since it’s free
refills on the soft drink here.
A tall guy walking past outside stops for a second and
waves to the girls. They laugh and wave, but he keeps on
walking looking dejected now, assuming now is not a good
time to talk to the girls with me and Steve around.
“That was Toby,” Kristy informs us, “poor cunt.. did ya
hear what happened to him at his 21st few months back?”
We all reply ‘nay’ so she goes on.
“Well anyway I wasn’t there when it happened, I was there
earlier and left early to go to another party, so Cynthia
told me about it the next day. Anyway he had his 21st
at the Westside club in one of the function rooms and
it was nothing wild cos Toby doesn’t drink much. It
was mainly his relatives and a few school friends, a bit
boring so I didn’t stay long. But later after he’d cut his
cake, he went off to the toilets needing to back one
out. So he goes in the cubicle but it doesn’t lock
properly, and it’s the only cubicle and it’s not that busy
so it’s gonna have to do, right? So he sits down, starts
shitting and he hears the door to the toilets open and
before he has a chance to think of what to say some
guy runs in and slams the cubicle door open which
smacks Toby in the head and then the fuckin drunk
guy starts puking all over him, mainly around his
crotch cos the pisshead was aiming for the bowl,
obviously didn’t expect anyone to be in there. So
Toby’s laying there dazed from the door slamming
into his skull, covered in puke and this guy just says to
him ‘sorry dude’ and walks out. So Toby starts crying
cos he doesn’t know what to do and a few minutes
later his dad goes in to fetch him for the yardglass
event and finds him there, door wide open, pants
 around his ankles, covered in vomit, bawling his eyes
out and a big shiny lump on his forehead. Poor cunt.”

There is about 30 seconds silence after Kristy has finished

her story and she munches on her meatball sub and
realising she wont finish it, asks
“Does anybody want the rest of this?”
04

Kristy and Joanne drop us back at our car and it’s up to us

again to try and score without the feminine advantage.
The time is now 8.14 and we don’t really have many if any
options except to wait until ten o’clock.

So we head back to our house in west end which we only

see a few nights a week cos we seem to get too trashed to
drive back and so sleep there on couches mainly, but if it’s
a female’s house Steve normally scores and enjoys a big
bed.
But me, I don’t mind the couch, it’s usually comfortable.
 TWELVE HOURS TO SCORE (part 2)

Its 9.12 and we’ve been driving round all day looking for a bit of
gunga to smoke up and its been brick wall after brick wall.
No.
Sorry.
Maybe later….
Bullshit cliched excuses.
I’ve seen some dodgy shit in my time – brothels, dealers, rock n roll
but this shit takes the cake. Ten hours of this day wasted with no
achievement, no success.

I remember one time I was seeing this young chick, 16 she was, and
she always got denied at the bottleshop cos they knew her parents and
knew she wasn’t old enough. Even if she was in some older dude’s car
they’d refuse to sell him alcohol cos they knew it was for her.
So I took her thru, got her some booze on several occasions. Went
thru in my parents 4wd with her in the back under a doona.
That was dodgy, I remember feeling uneasy cos she had a smartarse
attitude and the dude made a comment that what I was buying was
her favourite drink and was I going round to hers?
I laughed nervously back at him, said I wished I was (never set foot in
her home, true)
She’s 18 now and she can buy her own grog so I never her from her
anymore.

Anyway, I digress. Its 14 past 9 and we’re waiting impatiently back at

our bachelor pad, me and Jeff. An old but decent wooden house in
West End that we rent for $210 between 3 of us. Sam also pays rent
but is only here randomly. He probably sleeps here 2 weeks of of each
month as he travels regularly to the Sydney for business. He’s away at
the moment and we’re rarely here, usually crashing at some girls pad
like this morning at Kim’s place.
I cant believe Jeff tho, he tells me nothing happened tween him and
Nikki, while me and Kimbo we’re in the bedroom making fuck noises.
She looked trashed in the morning, wrapped in a shower curtain.
I’m guessing she flirted with Jeff and he thought nothing of it, too
damn negative that boy.
He now fiddles with the tv antenna trying to get a better reception,
not that there’s anything he wants to watch (he swears he hates tv).

He switches it off in disgust, turns on the stereo, ejects previous cd

and puts in Soundgarden’s ‘Superunknown’ cd, a great album.
The phone rings almost immediately, I answer it.
It’s Joe and he’s on he way around with a friend. Soon he says, then
the line goes dead.
“Who was it?”
“Old mate Joe, says he’s coming round soon with a friend.”
I realise we’ve only got 45 minutes to go until we can hook up with
Joanne and Kristy to go see their connection at 10pm.

So Joe shows up with this girl I used to sort of know, not that well
mind you, we shared bodily fluids n all but after that she was with
some other guy at the disco, so I moved on.
Now Joe’s met her somehow.
Don’t know, don’t care.
Anyway I’m about to ask Joe if he knows where to some buds but he
gets in first asking if I’ve got anything I can sell him.
“Fuck I wish! Cant find any myself,” I tell him, “been looking all day
for the shit.”
Jeff is on the phone trying people he sorta knows in the hope of
getting some weed sooner.
“Well fuck you too,” he says bitterly after hanging up again in disgust.

I’m trying to remember this girl’s name, Brunee I think, something

french sounding. The boys dubbed her Browneye cos you know she’s
got browneyes and it also sounded rude when we were young. Even
the word sex sounded rude at school.
So Brunee is sitting here smiling not saying anything and I’m
remembering the night behind the soccer club after we won the semi
final (lost the final the next week sadly)
She was wearing a yellow top with the sleeves rolled up. She had a
fake tattoo on her right shoulder, a cool blueish design of a shark on a
surfboard. And you could tell it was fake cos the corner of it was
starting to peel. Was a grand night and the recollection of it reminds
me how great life can be sometimes.
My fantasy is blurred when she says something about skydiving.
Joe looks a bit spooked but sorta like ‘not with me youre not, im not
doing that crazy shit!’ look on his face.
I look at Brunee’s arm trying to imagine that shark tattoo, but now
she looks older, tubbier.
She wears these tight red shorts with the word HO written on the
front. In black lettering ho ho ho merry fuckin x-mas qui?
Joe has an arm around her, that he sorta taps hesitantly.
“So you havent got any?” he asks yet again.
“Not until sometime after ten.” I tell him.
“Ah well, you know, yeaaah, I guess ah, I’ll keep on looking meself.”
And with that Joe Castroni and a girl who I had sex with 3, maybe 4
years ago are up off the cheap couch and walking to the door
mumbling something about a new years eve piss-up.
“Seeya Joe. Bye bye Browneyes.” Jeff half yells.

“Alright they’re gone, 25 minutes before we hook up with the girls and
get the gunga. I’m gonna take a shower, shave an all. Tidy up cos you
see it’s not just a drug mission it’s a love mission.
Of shagging proportions.” I tell him.
I’ve had Kristy half a dozen times before so it’s Joanne I’m interested
in cos she’s I dunno, a mystery I guess. The girl doesn’t say much but
she’s got an amazing smile on her that could melt even deep freeze
ice-cream and she smells so delectable. I love it when girls smell all
sorta perfumey, it shows they care how they smell.
Anyway I go have my shower, tidy up and get dressed.
It’s 9.57 and a song that sounds like the Cure is playing on the stereo.

“You ready?” Jeff asks.

“Yep.” I reply and we’re off
 TWELVE HOURS TO SCORE (part3)

Its been nearly eleven hours now since we started searchin when
we get to Kristy and Jo’s flat. They see us thru the balcony, tell us
to wait and they’ll be down soon. Steve is driving, I’m riding
shotgun and the girls jump in the back and we’re off to meet
Kristy’s connection.

She goes up to the house we were at earlier and knocks on the

door.
A dodgy looking guy sporting a slightly black eye and wearing a
‘gimme head’ t-shirt comes over with her to our car. He hops in the
back seat, says hello to Joanne who scowls at him and he tells us
“Me car’s not working so if you can give us a lift out Kelso way
I’ll go get the gear and bring it back cos uh, no one’s allowed to
know where this guy lives, but uh, I know so it’s cool.”
And Steve gives a glance like ‘it doesn’t sound cool’ but what can
you do?

So next thing you know we’re hopping out of Steve’s car and this
clown complete with backwards hat takes the keys and suggests
that Kristy goes along with him.
We give her our money ($50) but she questions that if no one else
is allowed to go along she shouldn’t go but he tells her she can
wait in the car, so she reluctantly goes, leaving Joanne with me and
Steve outside a closed corner store. At least there’s a bus stop seat
so we sit down and hope the wait aint too long.
It is now 10:17.
It will take another 62 minutes before we see Steve’s car again but
we don’t know that just yet. We’re just assuming they’ll be back in
ten minutes like he said. It takes only 2 minutes for the mosquitoes
to make their presence known.
Conversation revolves around the damned mosquitoes and it’s
sorta uncomfortable cos altho we’ve got this gorgeous girl with us
we’re both attracted to her and she doesn’t seem interested in either
of us.
I thought since Steve’s got a history with Kristy I’d be able to hook
up with Joanne but Steve seems keen on her too. Life isnt easy.
It’s quiet for a while cept for the slapping of blood draining
mosquitoes.
“Well…” Steve says.

Joanne decides to try calling Kristy’s mobile number, then she

realises a few unanswered rings in that
“Kris’ phone is on the charger at home, she didn’t take it with her,
shit,” and hangs up her phone.
We wait some more, silent.

Then Jo suprises us both and sings-

“Dear I fear we’re facing a problem, you love me no longer I know
and lately there is nothing that I can do, to make you do..”
She continues singing beautifully
“So I cry and pray and I beg for you to love me love me..”
She does an entire acapella version of the Cardigan’s ‘lovefool’,
amazing this girl, considering she’s so quiet normally.
“Go on and fool me..”
What a voice! Steve and I might have to resurrect our misplaced
band with a singer like Jo.
When she finishes we applaud and she gets all confident.
Steve speaks first
“Hey you got a wonderful voice Jo. I was thinkin and uh, Jeff and
me used to play in bands you know. Me on guitar and Jeff on
drums and uh, y’know we should like, get together and try some
songs… if you want?”
“Ok. I also play guitar and bass,” she informs us all so matter of
factly.
“Even better,” I say then cant think what else to add so I go quiet.

“Fukn how long is this guy gonna take?”

They both look at me in unison- we don’t know!
Out here this time of night its really quiet, hardly any traffic so
when headlights come into view we focus to see if it’s our car but
nah, just some new commodore or ritzy lil jap car or a 4wd but not
Steve’s car.
Well I guess it could’ve been worse, might’ve got stuck here with
some hippy bloke rather than Joanne.
 TWELVE HOURS (part 4)

C’mon Kristy, hurry the fuck up!

These mosquitoes are taking me away piece by
piece!
Hurry up Kristy, this is taking far too long and I’m
scared.
You’ve left me out at a bus stop in woop woop at
nearly eleven o’clock at night with 2 boys I don’t
really know. I was singing for them a few minutes ago
and they genuinely seemed to think I was good and
asked me to start a band with them. Might be fun,
might have to look into that.
But for now conversation is hush.

Jeff, the shorter one, the drummer I think, taps a beat

into the wooden seat and gets a good rhythm
happening.
Steve, the tall one, is an ex-root of Kristy’s so I guess
that’s where the jealousy steps in, cos even tho he is
obviously not aware, I’m Kristy’s new partner. I’m
assuming he doesn’t know cos he’s trying to chat me
up.
Shit, I cant believe she’d leave me like this.

The boys are talking between themselves now and I

tune out of their conversation, thinking instead of my
gal and the kinky shit we’ve been getting up to in the
bedroom. And every other room in the flat.
I wish she’d hurry up, I’m bored and stinging from all
the mozzie bites and she’s probably smoking bongs
with Mr. Bigtime drug dealer and associates while
we’re out here in the middle of nowhere.
So we’re waitng and I look at my phone and it’s
11:11.
Jeff obviously hates waiting and Steve seems a bit
anxious about his car.
And me, I’m worried about Kris.
Ten fucking minutes my arse!

The guys start talking boy talk again, but guitars

rather then cars, and instead of the motor they’re
gonna invest in they’re talking dream guitars and it’s
sorta refreshing for a change.

Nearly ten minutes later, Kristy and the dodgy guy

finally return in Steve’s car and she looks pissed off,
offended and he’s mumbling something as he hops in
the backseat. Kristy stays in the front, Steve gets
into the driver’s seat and I let Jeff into the middle
back position before I hop in cos I don’t wanna sit
next to creepy drug guy.

On the silent drive back to the dodgy guy’s place I

stroke Jeff’s inner thigh, forcing him to look at me
quizzedly. I smile, he smiles.
I get the feeling I could have him at the drop of a hat
but he seems too under confident. Steve seems to be
the opposite tho.
We drop the creep off then it’s back ours for a sesh.
Twelve hours to score (part 5)

We find out on the drive to Kristy’s what happened in that hour.

The dodgy guy with the backwards cap used Steve’s car to drive her to an
abandoned house, pretending like ‘shit! the guys not home, we’d better wait,
he wont be long.’ And then waiting nervously until he decides to hit her up
for sex, saying there’s a bed inside and he had a key. She asked ‘why don’t
you go in, get the stuff and leave the cash?’
‘nah nah, cant do that’ he said then he’s quiet for a while before pleading for
a root saying it’ll kill the time. After 5 more failed attempts and Kristy
threatening to call the cops on the phone in the car (Steve’s mobile, no
credit, useless) he grudingly admits to having the $50 bag on him. The
whole time! ‘fucking cunt!’ (her words, not mine) So she gives him the
money and he suggests she keeps the cash for herself if she gives him a
blowjob and so she gave him her hardest punch in the left arm, told him to
start the fucking car and he started crying before going nasty and telling her
she’ll never be able to score off him again to which she simply laughed.
This explains the tension when we got into the car.
What a slimy fukn prick, wasting our time whilst we’re being chewed on by
mozzies. If I’d known this then I woulda given him another punch. Asshole.

So anyway we get back to the girls flat and we go up cos they’ve got a
choice lil bong, which we fire up almost immediately upon ntering the room.
Kristy’s got the buds in a bowl, chopping away but Steve couldn’t wait and
he’s smoking a juicy lil chunk of green already.
Joanne puts the stereo on, a bit of Radiohead, Planet Telex from The Bends.
Kristy finishes chopping and gets the billy off the coffee table and packs me
a cone.
“Thanks,” I say, “I been waiting 12 hours for this shit.”
Smoke it, cough, relax.
Aaah, that all too familiar sensation.
Been smoking this herb on and off for nearly ten years now, and like
clockwork the urge for a cigarette and a drink kicks in.

Kristy packs a cone for Joanne and then herself, flicks on the tv while Jo’s
smokin away and mutes the volume.
They’ve got pay tv and she skims the channels stopping on the fashion tv
channel which is showing a lingerie show parade.
“Something for you boys to enjoy,” she says with a giggle.
“You’re the best!” Steve almost erupts with excitement before realising how
that just came out, then a stifled laugh.
Kristy smokes one then packs it for Steve and you can tell his head’s still
spinning from the first one.
“Oh yeah..” he grins as she passes it to him.

Joanne plays DJ and changes the music from Radiohead to Jeff Buckley’s
‘Grace’ and Jeff is singing ‘wait in the fire, wait in the fire’ as I spark up my
second bazooka.
I pass it back and it’s Jo’s turn again, and I wonder what the stroke and the
smile in the car was all about. Does she like me? Or would she had done that
had Steve been in the back in my place?
She’s quiet, too quiet to get any answers out of, but man has she got a sweet
voice. A Kim Gordon sort of purr. Gotta pursue this band idea someday.
We saty another ten uneventful minutes before we go home as its almost
midnight and the girls have got early classes tommorrow morn.
When we get back to West End the lights are on round the back and
whaddya know, Sam’s back from wherever and he’s having a drink out by
the BBQ with Wade and his two dogs, Zach and Zara, who arent drinking,
they’re just watching us approach, tongues hanging out.
“Hey Sam, Wade. We got some buds!” Steve says holding up the half empty
fifty bag.
“Yeah so have I!” Sam replies holding up a hardly touched ounce bag.
“How long you been back?” I ask.
“About an hour or so. Wade came over twenty minutes ago with a carton.”
Wade reaches into the carton and throws us a tinny each.
“Cheers.”