the bath of booze

Across the road of cars and puddles a youthful man in a hooded top was jamming a cellophane wrapped crate of beer between his leg and the door to the close whilst simultaneously texting on his mobile and leaning to his right to buzz buzzer buttons.

No answer. So another button. No answer. So another. Staccato static spiked from the speaker. He readjusted his balance and glimpsed that the woman from the top floor was descending the stairs. A few seconds later she opened the door and smiled as she passed. She was dressed to go out for the evening.

Cheers, he said. Ah left ma keys in ma otha troosers.

He put his phone back in his pocket and the door swung shut behind him as he entered the building. The grandeur of the staircase facing him contrasted with the crumpled supermarket magazines on the floor and the half-hearted graffiti on the wall tiles. He walked up the stairs. A newly cracked window on the landing. The smooth curvature of the stair edges. The fading smell of Indian cooking and the random cry of chapati! from one of the ground floor flats. Albeit it alongside other words he didn’t recognise. His head was feeling light after the trip to the gym, and as he reached the first floor he pushed through his eager anticipation for the party to consider his nearly completed to do list.

Fiver on my phone ok, xbox music compilation created yes, all the cleaning boxes ticked check. Booze sorted yes plenty now, and still a quarter of soapbar too. And uh huh, woo hoo, most likely weed and pills later when the usual suspects arrive. Food? I is pure famished  he said out loud. He remembered the poster from the gym. Your protein window lasts for two hours after you exercise it had stated assertively. Fine, he thought. That gives me an hour and a half to get to the chippie. Pas problem.

The door to the flat lay open, with the loud warped warbles of DJ stuff offering an explanation for the lack of buzzer reply. He heard voices from her room, a scream and then laughter. Oh yeah. The stoned banter from the previous evening drifted back. Her idea to design t-shirts for the party with acrylic paint. Smiling he headed towards the bathroom. He pushed open the Underworld postered door, plugged the bath plughole, started the cold tap running, and placed each of the beers in turn into the tub.

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~ by erskinebeach on June 17, 2015.

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