The way back home…

FRIDAY NIGHT

VERONICA rolls out of the bar, inhales a quarter pounder and climbs into a cab in record time.  Pleased with herself, she greets the cabby with cheer. 

VERONICA: How’s your night been?

CABBY: Pretty quiet.  Where would you like to go tonight?

VERONICA is usually wary of a cabby’s reaction to her suburb.  To give you an idea, she lives  30 mins away from the city.  She utters her suburb, expecting a heavy-hearted sigh.  Instead…

CABBY: Great!  You’ll be my biggest fare of the night.

VERONICA: Seriously?

CABBY: I told you, it was quiet.

VERONICA: I was wondering why I could get a taxi so easily.

CABBY: I can’t explain it.  There was so much traffic earlier on, and now…nothing!

VERONICA looks out at the streets, they seemed pretty empty for a 2am on a Friday night.

CABBY: Did you have a good night?

VERONICA: I had a wicked night.  I loved it.  I think my friends are a bit upset though.

CABBY: Why?

VERONICA: They thought I was going to stay at theirs.  It’s not that I don’t like them, I just like sleeping in my own bed more.

CABBY:  I’ll tell you something.  All my life, until I was married, I always slept in my own bed.

VERONICA: I don’t know what it is.  I’ve just always liked being around my stuff.  Especially if I’m hungover.  I need to wake up in my own bed, walk around in familiar dwellings, and know where everything is.

CABBY: I know where you’re coming from.  Some people are just like that.

VERONICA: So have you had many fares at all tonight?

CABBY: No, but the one’s I’ve had were all strange.

VERONICA: Oh yeah?

CABBY: I had one guy ask me to take him to Crown Casino, and he was around the corner from it.

VERONICA: What?

CABBY: I know.  I said to him, “mate, it’s around the corner”.  He told me to take him anyway because the girls he was meeting would be more impressed if he came out of a cab, than if he was walking on his own.

VERONICA: Pffr.  His money.

CABBY: It was a waste of my time.

VERONICA: That too.

CABBY: It’s what you have to put up with I suppose.  I bloody hate this job.

VERONICA:  I’m sorry to hear that.

Random conversations continue.  They cover a variety of topics from racial discrimination, gender discrimination, homophobia, and alcoholism.  When the CABBY reaches the exit of the freeway to VERONICA’s suburb, he comes to a realisation.

CABBY:  I think I may have taken you home before.

VERONICA: Really?

CABBY: Oh yeah!  I remember you!  You’re the girl who can’t tell her left from right!

VERONICA: You remember that!  Man, that would have been 2 months ago.

CABBY: Yeah, but you’re a funny passenger.  You don’t forget funny passengers.  Especially when they have a problem telling you left from right.

The CABBY pulls up to VERONICA’s house and she tips him.

CABBY:  Thanks love, you have a good sleep.  See you in another 2 months time.

Small World. 

THE END.  

What’s My Age Again?

LOCATION: Rue Bebelons, K’s Hens Night

A drunken loved up discussion between VERONICA and her friends S, E and K (the hen).  They discuss love, marriage and life in general.

VERONICA: (to K) So how are you feeling about it?  You must be pretty frazzled with wedding prep.

K: You know what, I’m looking forward to the wedding, and it’s going to be a great day, but I’m also looking forward to the end of it, and for life to be back to normal…or somewhat normal.  The planning has taken me away from you guys and I miss hanging out with.  This has been a good night!

E: It’s been an awesome night.

VERONICA: (raising her Sangria) Well, to your wedding next week!  May it go off without a hitch so you can get hitched.

S: Here here!

Drink

S: So I bet the pressure is off you now from your folks.

K: Well, I can’t say there was ever any real pressure aside from the odd “We just want you to be happy.”

E:  Now they’ll just pressure you about kids.

K: Ha ha, yeah.  That’ll happen, but in time.

E: That’s the thing isn’t it?  The timing.

S: Oh my god, if I have to hear “when I was 27 I was married and had my first child.”

VERONICA: Oh I got that speech from my dad on my 25 birthday.  ”When your mother was 25 she was already married, had moved countries and had her first child.  You.”  What am I supposed to do with that?

S: I’m happy to get married when I’m 40.

VERONICA: Ah, if it happens it happens.

S: I’ll marry a 20 year old.

VERONICA: Hey, I might just do that too!

E: Eww.

S: We were talking about speed dating before and not only is it 50 bucks a pop, they also have this category of 60-year-old men wanting to meet 20-year-old women.

EVERYONE: EWWWWWWWWW!

VERONICA: In the words of my sister: “Can you imagine that on top of your body?”

EVERYONE: EWWWWWWWW!!!!!

VERONICA: Yeah.

S: Well, pushing 30.  I’ll be 28 this year.

VERONICA: That’s nothing, I’ll be 29.

Silence

E: What?

VERONICA: Yup.  Turning 29 this year.

K: Wait, what?  29?  Really!?

VERONICA: Yeah.

S: What year were you born in?

VERONICA: 1983.

Silence

E: You’ll be turning 28 this year.

VERONICA: What?

S: You’re 27 now, you’ll be turning 28 this year.

VERONICA: Are you serious?  Am I 27?

K: Oh my god.

VERONICA: Wait, who’s got a calculator?

Grab S’s i-phone and begins to crunch the numbers.

VERONICA: Holy shit.  I’m 27!

E: BAH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

S: Happy Birthday.

K: How do you feel.

VERONICA: So, I’m turning 28 this year.

S: In July yes, you’ll be 28.  That’s how it generally works.

VERONICA: Oh my god, I’m so relieved!!!

E: How the hell do you come up with 29?

VERONICA: I have a habit of saying I’m a year older about six months after my birthday so that when the time comes to actually turn that age, I don’t feel so anxious about it.

S: But now you’ve convinced yourself you’re turning 2 years older.

VERONICA: I lost 2 years in 2 minutes!

K: It’s a revolution.

VERONICA: Who’s for an Espresso Martini?  WOOOOT!

 

THE END

P.S. This is dedicated to Katy and to the rest of “The Stranglies”.  All the best for next week Katy, you’re going to make a stunning bride.

P.P.S.  I just read this story to MUM: “Hmm.  See!  And you laughed at me when I couldn’t remember your date of birth.”

 

Friday Night Train Home

NB:  The following is based on a conversation I overheard on the train late Friday night between two men who partied a bit too hard.

Two men, MAN 1 and MAN 2, enter a train carriage and take a seat across from each other.  MAN 1 is dressed in jeans, t-shirt and a sports jacket, MAN 2 is wearing a suit.  Both are just as drunk as each other.

MAN 1: Phaw, just made it with half a minute to spare.

MAN 2: Told you we would.

MAN 1: Yeah well we walked a fair way to get here.  Half the city almost.

MAN 2: It wasn’t that far.

MAN 1: Not for you maybe.

MAN 2: Man, I told you, I walk all the time, the city is nothing for me.

MAN 1: Yeah for you maybe.

MAN 2: You need to get out more.

MAN 1: What do you think I’ve been doing tonight then?

Silence

MAN 1: Aw what!?

MAN 2: What?

MAN 1: This is a direct service to Glen Waverly.

MAN 2: So.

MAN 1: So, it doesn’t go through the loop, it goes straight to Richmond, we didn’t need to walk all that far.

MAN 2: Yeah, it goes through the loo.

MAN 1: No it doesn’t.

MAN 2: Yes it does.  Where does it say it doesn’t?

MAN 1: I read it on the screen there.

MAN 2: It doesn’t say it goes direct, it goes to the loo–through the loo, the loot–er. The loop.

MAN 1: Yeah? So why are we in Richmond Station now?

MAN 2: Shut the fuck up.  You coming to America?

MAN 1: No.

MAN 2: Why not?

MAN 1: They fingerprint you now when you land in the airport.  What the fuck do I want to be fingerprinted for, you know? That’s a violation of my rights.

MAN 2: Man, I work in the police force, I gotta fingerprint all the time.  It’s fucked.

MAN 1: Yeah, I’m not going, fuck that.

MAN 2: To the police force?

MAN 1: Nah, America.

MAN 2: Why not?

MAN 1: Hey did you speak to Jenny?

MAN 2: Nah.  She looks plain, I hate that look.

MAN 1: I don’t know, she looked alright to me.

MAN 2: What, cause she had her hair down?

MAN 1: Yeah well, we had a nice little chat.

MAN 2: What are you talking about?  She just sat in a corner and didn’t talk to anyone.

MAN 1: Well I said two words to her, “hi” and “bye”.

MAN 2: That’s not a chat.

MAN 1: Well its small talk.

MAN 2: Pshh, fucken, whatever.

MAN 1: Nah, well, I think she looked nice.  She looked different.

MAN 2: That’s because she wore her fucking hair down.  That’s all.  Nothing different about her, she’s as plain as shit.  I hate it when women don’t put in an effort.

MAN 1: Is that why you wore a suit?

MAN 2: No, I wore this because I was wearing it all day.

MAN 1: Good effort.

MAN 2: Shut the fuck up.  <Silence> Where are we going anyway?

Both men pass out before there’s an answer.

THE END.