Showing posts with label strange. Show all posts
Showing posts with label strange. Show all posts

Thursday, 24 April 2008

Dining on Crash Street

She had the squid and I opted for the duck. Sarah and I, dining out on Crash Street.
You couldn’t see through the windows in there; they were blacked out and re-enforced with steel grills. To be honest, it was pretty dangerous just to walk down the street, but the food was good and the restaurateur knew it.
So, he benefits from cheap rent, we benefit from cheap cuisine and all anyone has to do to enjoy the benefits, to reap the salty rewards, is avoid the guys playing chicken on the road outside.
Everyone new to the town, we tell them: ‘grab a bite at Hong King Kong’s and then go for a drink at The Strange.’ People from outside don’t know what’s hit them, but they catch on pretty quick.
I followed one of them, you could tell he wasn’t from round here. He asked me the way to Crash Street. I told him and then dawdled some way behind.
They stand there, just stand there gawping at Crash Street. Where do they go from here? That’s what they’re trying to work out. There’s busted up motors lining both sides of the street. Some scrap-collector might be there, making fast money. All the shops, all the bars, all the restaurants are boarded up. But they’re open. They all have a sign on them saying “Welcome”; “Come inside”, “We are open!”, “Half-price on everything!!”.
It’s a great street really, but get there either before three or after five, because there’s a lot of boys meeting between those times and they’re looking to get pretty messed up.
Still, some people have just gotta eat, or drink, or get a cheap sofa during those hours. Some people’ll walk their kids home from school that way. You see it all the time.
We’re a defiant bunch. We accept things the way things are. Why do anything about it? Crash Street wouldn’t be so cheap if it was safe. Wouldn’t be so special.
And the duck. The duck is out of this world!

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This post is a continuation of ideas that began with the following tale: Drinking in The Strange.

Wednesday, 19 March 2008

Drinking in The Strange

The announcer said this might be the first rocksteady track ever recorded. It crackled on and then filled the background. The lights blared while the music soothed.
One man alone in a shared house. A glass of brandy slipping from his grasp and the music and lights hummed on.
That’s when I decided it a good idea to go out.
There were several bars within a three minute walk of the house and all of them were full of the kind of people I wanted to meet.
“Buying or selling, guy?”; “What limbs you got for me?” Men in leather jackets wanted to know. They jostled me as I made my way through the front door and on to the bar.
“Treble brandy, splash of lime, hun.” I said that to the barmaid. She looked like a cross between Lulu and Bob Dylan. I gazed at her as she got my drink. I wanted to sleep with her.
“Sell me your face,” said one of the men at the door. They were weird in here. Everyone was allowed to be strange and riddlesome, it was encouraged and expected.
Next door, the bar was Sleazy. Everyone in there was filth and they letched and groped all night. Across the road was the Arrogance CafĂ©. Sometimes we’d go in there before we drank, or maybe we’d end the night in there. It was good, because there were no seats in there.
Tonight, I paid for my drink without looking the girl in the eyes. “Can you show me Babylon with your hands, Sarah?” I spoke to her now.
“Just follow the rivers, don’t follow the palms,” she came back quickly. I could see in the mirrors behind the bar that she was smiling at that.
I drank half of my drink and then placed it down on the bar. I asked clearly for two cubes of frozen water, and then I went to the toilet.
Inside, a guy asked me if the crows were being born starlings this year. I told him they were all being aborted by owls, then asked him if he were looking forward to when the scarlet wings he was growing were ready to fly. This made him laugh and I shook my head with disdain.
Back at the bar I was already growing bored. No-one took this at all seriously except for me, of course.
“For plastic’s sake. Are we done yet, Sarah?” I cried. She nodded and went to get her coat.
I cracked my knuckles and scratched lightly at my crotch. I was ready and looking forward to going next door for a drink.