Brenda’s Unfortunate Record #48


Thursday fuzz, fog what the fuck? How did that happen? Half the day in bed nursing sore head between sporadic sprints to the toilet. Face down staring down bowl. Hands and knees, hands to knees, retching hard. Ouch. Was it worth it? A Wednesday night spins out of control. Unexpected pissing it down with no umbrella, all the more reason to stay indoors. One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, four … order me some more … and a skinny bitch while you’re at it, the vodka soaked soda delight. Please and thank you. Right now, not tomorrow. Not where I am in this instant, cursing a parade of bad choices. But was it worth it? Did I have fun? I musta. Collapsed on the settee, heap of giggles, spinning mind and memories. Music. We’d been to a gig, a good one at that. Although the sound there still ain’t something, paper wings flapping on the wall. But it was better than I thought it would be. Loved most but the hits. That old chestnut, you tough nut to crack, you. 

A jaunt to the photo booth. Two quid bargain and don’t we look great. I will have another tin and pass the Agave. Clink clink clink, glazing over, but yes I think I met you all in the eye. Won’t be any bad luck bad fucks for any of us tonight. Off to move the body. And damn it’s doing it oh so well, you sexy mid-week dancer. 

We’re headed off now. Pile into the XL, whilst we still can. I’ll take the back, sandwiched beside you, new friend. Did we really cross paths all them years ago? The ride goes too fast and woh here already. Back. Here? Sunday place, Monday place … late night hole, only at the hump it’s quieter than normal. Talk history and travel, downing more and more while water lashes at the window. Then the stools start going up and we’re on the move again. Shocked at the big, cold drops hitting my forehead. Where the fuck is my umbrella?! You all cross the road and I swerve away towards market, shouting good-nights. Good night? Yes it must be, it musta been. Back then. But not now. No, right now I’m suffering. Warning code, they say. Cause of course you’ll know better next time. 


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