TWO LIARS AFTER THE FOO FIGHTERS CONCERT
December 18th 2011 12:51
The words GIRLS ARE PERVS flickered on Jude’s singlet as about five of us ran around a campfire by some beach in the Gold Coast, dizzy from quite a few things we’d taken while watching the Foo Fighters live.
“It’s funny how thousands of people would go out of their way to watch people play music,” the receptionist panted as she sat down. “I wonder what, like, makes us so hooked to it.”
“I spent weeks with a girl once, just driving further and further north.”
“Who was the girl?”
“I don’t remember.” My head flopped backwards and I looked up at the night sky. It looked like it was being set on fire. “But I’m pretty sure she was like, really really pretty when she had makeup on.”
During the gig, Dave Grohl talked about how a few years ago, right after performing at the Gold Coast, he’d been arrested and imprisoned for driving a scooter while under the influence of alcohol. Everyone laughed except for me: I suddenly remembered the interview I had with a police officer a few days earlier. I sat with him for an hour or so as he asked me about my relationship with the receptionist, how intimate we were, if I ever considered that she was still actually engaged to her supposed ex-fiancé, if I believed that her supposed ex-fiancé actually hit her, if she’d ever lied to me before, if she told me a lot of nonsensical stories, if I knew that her supposed ex-fiancé was also in the police force.
The campfire grew; we drank more and more and found ourselves all at Jude’s place, in his bedroom, all lying under his sheets. The receptionist had a bottle of beer in her hand and gently poured some into my mouth. “It’s spilling on the pillow,” I said, but she ignored me. “Have you ever cheated on me?” she asked. “Shit no,” I said. “Tell me now, Dean, have you ever cheated on me?” she asked again. “Of course I haven’t I keep telling you,” I said. “Have you cheated on me, Dean?” she asked me again. I avoided her question and instead asked her this: “Have you ever lied to me? About, like, major things?” She poured some more beer into my mouth. “You’re avoiding my question, Dean.” “And you’re avoiding mine,” I replied, realising that she was completely sober. “Have you ever cheated on me, Dean?” She asked again. “Maybe,” I finally said, “but I’m not too clear on it.” She poured the rest of the bottle’s contents into my mouth, kissed my forehead, stood up and headed for Jude’s bedroom door. I mumbled for her to come back before passing out and waking up in the evening the next day to an empty, sweat-smelling room.
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