Firing Line
Jack lightly elbowed me in the ribs as he took the next stool at the bar. His dog settled on the floor between us. ‘How’s it hangin?’
‘Ugh. You?’
‘Same. It’s bloody criminal the way women are turning guys down these days.’
‘What? Where did that come from?’
‘You know. Who needs a man and all that independence shit.’ ‘I was gonna say I hadn’t noticed, but when I thought about it, women have been scarce lately. ‘That’s why I came in here,’ he continued. ‘This place used to be busy with skirt.’
I nodded. ‘Used ta be. I just come in for a beer, or two these days. Everyone’s hooking up on The Net now. I had to get Sally to write a profile for me. I’d been using my writing bio but she said it was far too pedestrian.’
‘How’s she doing, your Sal?’
‘She’s good. Got a good job. Making shitloads of money.’
‘Good for her. She seeing anyone?’
‘Nah. Reckons she doesn’t have the time.’
‘See what I mean? Maybe I should ask her. She wouldn’t need time to get ta know me.’
‘She’s my sister, Jack.’
‘You puttin’ her off limits, Dave?’
‘Sounds a bit harsh when you put it like that but, seeing as how well I know you, yeah.’
‘You’re shittin’ me!’
‘Jack, let’s face it, you treat women like shit.’
‘Says who? Oh, look, there’s Connie. Now she is what I came in here looking for.’
‘To answer your question, me, yer mum, my mum, Denise, Rachel, probably others.’
‘What? Oh. Since when?’
‘Since forever. Yer mum reckons you’re just like your old man. You treat me an’ Rufus well, but that’s it.’
Rufus, who had been lying on the floor between us, stood at the mention of his name.
‘Sit, boy.’ Jack said. The dog did as told. ‘Rufus! How does he come into it?’
The dog stood again, confusion in his eyes.
‘Hey guys,’ said Connie as she sat on the stool next to me. How’s it hangin’?’
‘Magnificently,’ we said, almost in unison.
‘How you doin’ Con,’ I asked.
‘I’m good. You?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Hey, I’m sat here too ya know. Don’t you have an ’ello for me?’
‘I included you in the question about how it’s hangin’ and you answered. What more do ya want, Jack?’
‘Now you ask, I do have a question for ya.’
Connie smiled tentatively, seemingly regretting her question and warning herself to be careful. ‘Oh yeah. Shoot.’
‘Have I ever treated you badly? Dave, here, says I treat women badly.’
‘Well, I’ve never let you close enough to treat me badly, but, yeah, you do. Ask Denise or Rachel.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Ask Sam as well, while you’re at it.’
‘This is unbelievable! What did I do to any of them?’
I leaned back, out of the line of expected fire.
‘That, Jack, is the whole problem right there. You have no idea.’
‘So, tell me. What do I ’ave ta do?’
‘Stop taking us for granted, for one. Wise up to your emotional connection, the intimacy.’
‘Oh, give me a fucking break.’ I moved my stool further back. ‘You wanna turn me into a woman?’
‘No, Jack. I want you to stay a man, but one with some emotional response.’
‘I’m a fun guy, aren’t I?’
‘Fun isn’t everything, Jack. And that’s it. I didn’t come in here for a debate.’
She turned to me. ‘You can bring your stool back to the bar now, Dave. The war of the sexes is temporarily over.’ Once I was back in place, she put a hand on my knee. ‘It’s you I came here for. I know I blew you off last Tuesday, but I’d had a bad day at work. Today’s a good day and you could make it better. So, we on? We could leave this place and go somewhere else for a drink, if you like.’
I turned to Jack. ‘Sorry, mate. Later.’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t soddin’ believe it!’
About the author
eter Lingard, p born a Brit, served in the Royal Marines, was an accountant, a barman and a farm worker. He once lived in the US where he owned a freight forwarding business. An Aussie now because the sun frequently shines and the natives communicate in English
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