Novel Project 2010 - Chapter Five

Sunday always comes around far too quickly. No sooner does the weekend start, than its practically over and Monday is looming like a dark cloud of having to get up early. At this particular point, I was engaged in my usual Sunday balancing act, trying to unlock and open the front door to the flat without setting down any of my three bags of shopping. I clumsily juggled the overweighted plastic bags to get to my keys, then did my best to select the correct key with my one free hand and unlock the door. All before my other hand went numb as the handles of the bags cut off the circulation to my fingertips. Of course, I could have put down the bags while I opened the door, which might even have been a little quicker. It would certainly be easier. But dammit, its the principle of the thing.
    I staggered into the flat and hefted my shopping onto the kitchen table. I briefly pondered whether I really needed to buy the organic, free-range, additive free, five-a-day ready meal, before assuring myself that it was indeed necessary, but for a purpose I hadn't yet determined. I then began digging through the bags to find the milk and butter that needed to secure their place in the fridge.
    As I closed the fridge door, I glanced across the hallway into the living room to see Nick sat on the sofa watching TV, still wearing his dressing gown and hopefully something underneath.
    "Have you moved today?" I asked, half laughing as I wandered into the room and leaned against the door frame to adopt a mildly authoritative stance.
    "Not really, " Nick replied, barely looking up. "but its Sunday. Why bother getting dressed? Who's going to see?"
    "Well, the rest of us." I said, pointedly staring Nick in the eyes, hoping I wasn't going to "see" any more
    "Its nothing you haven't seen before."
    "Yes, I know. Rather keen not to see it again."
    "Don't worry, I've got pants on."
    "Thank god for that."
    "Anyway, I can get dressed later, still plenty of the day left."
    "Its seven in the evening."
    "Exactly, five whole hours before I go to bed."
    "Its been dark out for nearly an hour."
    "So people are less likely to see me."
    I had to admit, Nick's logic was infallible. To tell the truth, this particular occurrence was such a regular fixture of our sunday evenings that you'd think it wouldn't surprise me any more.
    "Cup of tea?" I offered, again, predictable as the music selection at an Australian theme pub.
    "Yeah, go on then."
    I headed back into the kitchen and flicked the kettle on, expecting there would be plenty of water left inside. The loud hissing that almost immediately emanated from inside told me otherwise, and I rushed to unplug the kettle and make sure that it actually had water in it this time. I leant backwards to direct my voice into the living room and continued the conversation while waiting.
    "Where are Dave and Carla tonight?"
    "They went out to dinner."
    "You see what you're missing by not getting dressed on Sundays, mate?" I sniggered, knowing full well the four of us hadn't gone to dinner together since an incident with the ice cubes and hummus six months previously.
    "Nah, eating in tonight. Cooking up a feast." Nick said, exuding a laddish enthusiasm that might have involved rubbing his hands together, if he could be arsed.
    "Oh really, what you having?"
    "Well, I've got some cheese, bacon and half an onion from a week ago. So, I don't know, cereal?"
    "Sounds like you're living the dream."
    "Don't I know it, mate."
    At this point, the kettle started bubbling and clicked to suggest I should get on with the task of actually preparing tea. I threw a couple of teabags into our already well-used mugs - you could count the rings to see how many cups we'd drank today - and idly went about brewing two builders-grade teas.
    When I'd finished, I wandered back into the living room and took a seat in the armchair across from the sofa that Nick was making a valiant effort to completely cover. No mean feat as he was neither particularly tall, nor notably portly.
    "When did the lovebirds head out?" I asked, setting our drinks on the magazines that had long since been repurposed as coasters.
    "About an hour ago, said something about an anniversary."
    "How long has it been for them now?"
    "Well," Nick said, checking a watch that he wasn't wearing, "think they're up to about three years now."
    "Christ, already?"
    "Well, they got together not long before we graduated."
    "Good point, " I mulled over this for a second, "Has it really been three years since we graduated?"
    "Yep, and they've still not put the rent up." Nick said, punching the air in victory.
    "Don't you think we should've done more with our lives by now?"
    "I don't know about you, but I've achieved everything I wanted to achieve at this point, and more."
    "Like what?"
    "I'm making rent and I'm better than you at video games. Speaking of which, rematch?" Nick indicated the joypads on the coffee table.
    "Yeah, why not? Never know, I might actually beat you this time."
    "Doubt it, mate, what do you think I've been doing all day?"
    I leaned over to the TV, trying to reach as far as I could without actually losing contact with my chair, and hit the on switch on the console nestled between the DVD player and amplifier - all part of a "home entertainment" centre we'd built up over the past few years that had moderately increased our entertainment prospects of an evening, while vastly increasing the risk of an electrical fire from the rats nest of cables behind.
    The game of choice was already waiting in the disk drive, and loaded immediately. It was a random racing title that Nick had picked up cheap a few weeks ago: discounted due to the combination of being a year and a half past its release, and the fact nobody had ever heard of it. Regardless, it had become the de facto game for the flat, as it didn't involve killing anyone, so we weren't chastised for playing it when Carla was around - although I suspected Dave was the one it really bothered, being the only one that ever actually complained.
    We went through the obligatory huge list of game options, and with our cars, track, weather, music and preferred colour of furry dice selected, we began the race. I immediately realised that allowing Nick to choose the track was a bad idea, as he seemed to know it so well he could race it with his eyes closed. Whereas I was clumsily bashing the controls in the vain hope I'd pick the right combination, with my tongue poking out of the side of my mouth like a child focusing on colouring inside some particularly complicated lines.
    The first few races happened in near-silence, punctuated by occasional expletives and grammatically poor encouragement for our cars to go faster. Finally, after completely thrashing me over these initial matches, Nick needed something else to keep his mind occupied whilst lapping me for the fifth time.
    "So how's this dating thing going for you, man?" He asked.
    "Well, I've had some dates, that's about all I can say for it."
    "Not got laid?"
    "Well, I've not actually got past a first date yet."
    "Yes, but have you got laid?"
    I gave Nick a look of mild incredulity, then a resounding clatter from the TV indicated I had crashed into a wall. Righting my vehicle, I formulated a response.
    "These girls aren't really the sort that would go to bed on a first date."
    "Are you sure? Maybe they're just the sort that won't go to bed with you on a first date."
    "Maybe you're right, but I'm not that kind of guy, either."
    "You would be if you could, mate, admit it."
    I couldn't really argue with that one. I went silent for a moment whilst carefully negotiating a depressingly easy bend.
    "What about you, Nick, you had any sordid affairs recently?"
    "Nah, you know me, free and easy. I'm not gonna go chasing it, if the ladies are interested, I'll let them come to me."
    "Is that why you haven't had a shag in four years?"
    "I've been too busy for all that stuff anyway." Nick countered, deftly passing through a hairpin bend, illustrating exactly what he'd been busy on.
    "Don't you worry you'll have no idea what to say when someone finally does make a pass at you?"
    "Come on, I've still got it. What about that girl I was chatting up the other night?"
    "She was 16, mate."
    "So? Not like that's illegal or anything. If she hadn't had to leave, I'd have been right in."
    "You mean if her dad hadn't come to pick her up? From her cousin's 13th birthday party. Where you'd been hired as the clown."
    "What can I say? The ladies love an entertainer."
    "They didn't seem particularly entertained."
    "It was a tough crowd, teenagers don't want the kids' party stuff any more."
    "So you thought the hen party stuff was more appropriate?"
    "At least I had the material lined up."
    "Yeah, but the parents really didn't appreciate phallic balloon animals. Practically chased us out with kitchen knives. That's the last time I help you out with your sound effects."
    "We still got paid, didn't we?"
    "Well, no, as a matter of fact."
    "Anyway, that's beside the point. The point is, I'll be able to turn on the charm when I need to. And when the right girl comes along, bam, I'll be away."
    "To a magistrate's court?"
    "Very funny. What I mean is, you don't need to be hunting around for someone the whole time. What makes you want to meet with all these women most of which are going to reject you anyway?"
    "Well, I figure eventually, it'll work out with someone. And this way, I know she's interested even before we've met."
    "Doesn't seem as exciting though, does it?"
    "Who wants exciting on a date? You're nervous enough already without wondering if its a date-date or a just-friends-date or an I-might-be-interested-but-I'm-not-entirely-sure-so-I'll-lead-you-on-a-bit-date."
    "But why are you in such a hurry to find someone? Why not just enjoy being one of the lads!"
    "There aren't a whole lot of us left, though. How many weddings have you been to in the past year?"
    "I dunno, three. Four if you count the one I wasn't invited to."
    "I think we can call that three. But still, at that rate, how long till everyone's coupled up, but us?"
    "Are you coming on to me?"
    "Er…no."
    "Not planning on making a pact are you? Because I'm one hundred percent straight, my friend. Emphasis on the friend."
    "No, Nick, I'm not asking you to make a lifestyle choice. What I mean is, everyone we know is getting married, or moving in together. And I figure if I want to settle down with someone someday, I might as well get started on finding her now. After all, its getting harder and harder to get people together for a night out or whatever, they're all off with their other halves, partners and significant others. Soon enough, they'll be staying home every night watching their kids. One by one, everyone's going to disappear from our lives off at some kind of couples-only dinner at a restaurant we've never heard of. And if you can't beat 'em, join 'em."
    At this moment, we heard the door unlock and Dave and Carla burst through the door, faces beaming.
    "Guys, we've got some news!" Carla called, almost singing.
    "Me and Carla have decided to get a flat together." Dave interrupted, practically bursting.
    "We're moving out." They said in unison.
    Me and Nick lost interest in our game and missed a spectacular display as both of our cars crashed simultaneously. Then I finally turned to Nick and said.
    "You see? This is exactly what I'm talking about."