In Between Days

I sprang bolt upright in bed. The strains of reverie being blared from a miniature trumpet stabbed at my eardrums .........once again.

This was not a military base. This was Sydney circa 1986 and the asshole playing the trumpet is downstairs pursuing his ongoing agenda of pissing off our Indian neighbors.

My feet hit the particle board flooring and I thundered down the stairs tripping over a mannequin head along the way.

His trumpet farted its last note as I hobbled over to reach my wild eyed roommate wiping away the spittle from his mouth.

'What the fuck is wrong with you Rager?'

'I mean.....they are really nice folks and they have kids for Christ sakes'

He slowly sat down on the sofa fixing a bead on me with his glass eye.

'Fuck em. Don't worry about it mate.......I made breakfast'

'You made breakfast? Its a joke yeah?'

He reached under the sofa cushion and produced what looked to be an ounce of hashish.

'Most important meal of the day sunshine'

I first met this creature at one of those infamous inner city parties a few months back.

The 6 foot, skinny, sunken chested, curved spine, wide hipped, hook nosed, pale, John Cooper Clarke lookalike was hard to miss.

Over a spliff he explained to me all about his ancient alien lineage. Totally validated by the fact that the first time he saw a photo of the surface of Mars, vision was restored through his glass eye for 24 hours.

I had no reason to doubt him....we became instant friends.

I only ever knew him as the Rager. Someone told me that they heard that his real name was Paul but I never pursued it. Rsger suited him fine.

At the time I was living by myself in a two bedroom terrace house.

The latest in a long line of crazy ex girlfriends had departed a few weeks back and left me to cover the rent.

Good riddance. The nightly visitations by her dead older Italian lover were doing my head in anyway. She owned a huge collection of cow memorabilia and a suitcase full of anxiety medications. There were pillowcases full of chocolate bars which she never consumed........just collected.

I playfully grabbed a Snickers bar once and ate it in front of her. She went absolutely bonkers and wouldn't talk to me for days. Psycho bitch.

To top it off she owned a cat. I hated that fucking cat.

I gave Rager the option of the second bedroom however in true gypsy style he claimed the sofa.

He'd sometimes go 'walkabout' for days on end. I'd arrive home to find that maniacal Cheshire cat face gleaming up from under a throw rug. Talking full throttle he'd share fanciful tales about all his wondrous adventures.

I'd mention about the rent and he'd produce a smorgasbord of illicit drugs as full payment.

We eventually got evicted but I'll talk about that in due course.

'