CHAPTER EIGHT THE DAY AFTER BIN DAY
IF YOU'VE MISSED THE BEGINNING OF THE BOOK IT STARTS HERE
Let us take both feet out of the past for a moment. I don't want to spoil the end of this book by telling you what my life is like now but sometimes it's nice to know there is a happy ending in sight. Let me take you back to late 2020. A worldwide pandemic has been raging for several months I am about to have sex for the first time in three years. It is not lost on me that it has taken a pandemic when all the competition is locked in it's house for a girl to finally be desperate enough to deign to have sex with me. The pandemic had actually been a walk in the park.I'd lost all my work, money hopes and dreams two years previously, there was nothing left for the pandemic to take.It was like a rat sniffing around a bin the day after bin day. I was just an empty wheelie bin with a piece of toilet paper stuck on the bottom of it. I always thought I'd do well during an apocalyptic event. Once the hope had been sucked out of society that's when i'd pounce. Pouncing is frowned upon in a society with hope but once that hope was gone that's when I'd cash in my chips.
It was Sunday night. It had been another weekend of staring at screens all day in the hope some opportunity from the digital neverworld would emerge from it's depths if I stared hard enough. I had grown to hate everything. Every film or TV show was like an ex girlfriend starring, written or directed by a love rival.The only way to rationalise my lack of success was by just telling myself everything was shit and I was a genius and that's why my stuff never got made. I was ahead of time. I was a true artist and all these guys were soulless grifters.I was pure and they were tainted. I stared longingly at my smartphone, when were they going to implant one in my brain that way I would never have to do anything. I could just dissolve into the couch and endlessly scroll the internet as UberEats are piped into my mouth three times a day. Instead I was endlessly swiping on multiple dating apps between getting up to urinate and shovel junk food into my hole. When I first started using Apps I read the bios but none of them said anything, they were as boring as reading the back of a pack of aspirin.Cliche after cliche "looking for someone down to earth" "bring out the best in each other" "try new things" . I was waiting for someone to say I work well independently or as part of a team. What had happened to romance and mystery? Like everything else love had become a commodity, just tick the boxes with your preferences, tell the app what time you were going to be free and your new girlfriend would be delivered to Pizza Express between the hours of 6-8. I always liked when they said "go on an adventure together" in their profile as they didn't really want an adventure. They meant go on holiday. What they were talking about was a luxury hostel in south America not fucking a penniless writer with low self esteem and crippling debts. If they really wanted an unusual or exciting experience as they said they did they should live a week using my bank account. I just imagined their faces as I woke them up at 3am and told them "it's time for that adventure you wanted, we need to pack all the stuff up and get out of here as I haven't paid the rent for three months." Give them a real adventure and they wouldn't last one second. What was I even doing on the apps.I was like a venus flytrap enticing these girls into my pink jaws and then clamping down and suffocating them in my chaotic life. By the time they realised it would be too late they were being slowly dissolved by my acidic bitterness.
My phone lit up, digital fireworks went off "You've matched with Hannah" came up in flashing lights. Endorphins pumped into my brain. My self esteem ratcheted up. Minutes before I was a worthless be-dressing-gowned slob shovelling fried food in his cake hole now I was an untouchable god. Someone liked me. I clicked open her profile. Not bad. Three years of dating apps had just turned these girls into pieces of meat. Not bad. That's all I could say. It was 23:30 I had been putting scrubbing the shower off the whole day and had not got out of my dressing gown. Hannah messaged me
“Please be up”
“why?”
“come over right now I want to ride you like Sea biscuit”
“where is over?”
“ Ruislip”
I liked it. No small talk. No what do you do. No where do you see yourself in five years time. No how many kids do you want. Just come over and let me ride you like Sea Biscuit. Ruislip. Miles away. Public transport was out of the question as it was 23:30 on a Sunday. Now this was an adventure. My phone beeped.
“Pussy”
“Sorry I’m just looking where Ruislip is”
“Rail me?”
"yeah"
I had no idea what that meant but it sounded positive. I’d find out what it meant, it wasn't positive. £30 in an uber. I hadn’t worked all year, actually two years. How much do I need a shag I wondered. A tener for each year without sex. Why not. I looked at her pictures. Very hot. My phone beeped again.
“Ring me”
Better call her and see if she is not mad.
“Hey”
“hey”
“have you done this sort of thing before?”
“had sex with someone? Well, I’m not a virgin”
“No I mean randomly with someone off the internet”
“No”
"Do you want me to shave my pussy?”
That was a surprise. I felt like I was ordering a pizza not chatting with someone on an app about fucking.
Would you like the thin crust or the thick crust? Anal and blow job? Thick crust and a blow job please. No anal.
“It’s your pussy”
“I just need to jump in the shower and it will be gone”
“No, just leave it as nature intended”
“Are we doing this?”
“ I’ll bring a bottle of wine”
“And condoms”
I jumped in the shower, grabbed a bottle of wine, a pack of condoms and hailed an UBER. I texted her "on my way" She replied with a GIF of a girl pretending to ride a horse. This is what I had always thought the dating apps were. A fuck whenever you wanted one. Three years later it had been the opposite. Not one fuck and I had drowned in a sea of rejection and ghosting and my self worth was in the bottom of the ocean. I opened up the app to look at her pictures again. She was hot. She’s sounded nice on the phone. What was the catch. She must have a husband. I’d turn up. Someone would knock me over the head. They’d murder me and then he’d fuck me up the arse and she’d suck my dead arse juice off his cock. I looked out the window we were driving past farmland and woods. I imagined this is where i would be buried. I texted a couple of friends the address I was going to Just in case I was murdered. It was 1am they were all asleep. I was at the stage where I actually didn't mind if I was murdered, may as well die being fucked up the arse by some girls husband in Ruislip. Felt like a fitting end to three long years. My UBER driver didn’t speak much English. I was trying to tell him to wait outside for five minutes whilst I went in but he had no idea what I was talking about and just nodded. I was scared now. The plan was I’d go in check every room to see if there wasn't some guy hiding in there dressed in a gimp suit with a baseball bat and if it didn’t feel right I’d run out and jump back in the UBER. I knocked on the door. She opened up
“ Do you mind if I have a look around”
She was startled. I was hyped up.
"Why?"
"To see if you are going to murder me"
"No, I've got work tomorrow"
“I just thought it was too good to be true”
she was a little freaked out.
“ Do you want to leave?”
I looked behind me the UBER had left.
“No. I’m sorry, I just thought it was a set up”
"no, I’m real."
I was still hyped up. I hadn't had sex for a couple of years, there was no jeapordy we were going to fuck whatever happened. I had been invisible to women and now for no reason whatsoever I was seen. She told me to go in the front room. I handed her the bottle of wine.
“I’ll put that in the fridge”
I walked into the front room. It made my front room look like the Sultan Of Brunei's Palace. An attempt had been made to paint it but she obviously was not tall enough to reach the ceiling so it was only half done. The only decoration on the wall was a Chelsea flag. She came in holding a bottle of prosecco.
“Chelsea fan?”
“We are going to win the league” (they were 8th at the time of writing)
In the furore of the entrance I hadn’t had a proper chance to check her out. This was not the woman in the pictures. They were at least five years old, possibly ten. In her pictures she was young, vibrant, well dressed and sexy in real life she was frumpy looking and was wearing baggy clothes. I'd been catfished. She could see what I was thinking.
“I’ve put on a bit of weight during lockdown”
And what about the five years before that I thought. I'd ordered champagne and got fizzy water. I was here now and miles from anywhere.
"We've all put some weight on during lockdown"
“ I got a promotion at work”
"Congratulations"
She opened the prosecco. I was going to have to drink that and the bottle of wine to go through with this. There was no choice. I was miles away from anywhere on a Sunday night.
“it’s been a hard year”
“It’s been a hard few years for me”
“ Have you been having sex”
“ Here and there” I lied
“ You look like Tom Hardy”
“Thanks”
It was a little awkward so I kissed her.
“What sort of music do you like?”
“ I don’t know, Hip Hop?”
She put a playlist on. I got up to get the bottle of wine from the fridge. I found a pint glass and filled it up, downed half of it. I went back in, she said
“Shall we dance”
She started to rub up against me. She enveloped me in her flabby body, bouncing her fat tits into my face. We danced to Biggy in her half painted room basking in the dim light of the fariy light adorned walls
“Lets go to the bedroom” I was drunk enough. It was now or never. I wanted to get this over with. Off we went.
"Do you mind if we turn the lights off I’m feeling a little self conscious"
I wish you were feeling self conscious when you swiped right on me and made me come to Ruislip. We were plunged into darkness and I heard a drawer open. OK this is the catch. This is where I die. Handcuffed to the bed beaten to death. Out came a lead with some nipple clamps
“Is that for me or you?” I asked
“Me”
I put the collar round her neck and clamped her nips. She bit her lip and groaned.
“What now?”
“Take me for a walk”
I started to walk round her bedroom. The door in her bedroom opened on to her garden,
"Do you need to go outside?"
She gave me a look so I walked her outside in her garden. She didn't do anything. I stood there looking at the stars with a girl on a lead. It was my understanding that a piece of bacteria on an asteroid had landed on this planet and we'd evolved from that. If only it had soared past this planet and hit the sun.We went back inside.
“There’s a good girl, what now?”
“I’ve been very naughty you are going to have to spank me."
I hadn't committed.
"What was that?”
I smacked her huge bottom harder
“You’ve been a very naughty girl!”
“sorry daddy”
Daddy? When she'd texted me three hours earlier I thought i was just going to have sex with a hot girl on Tinder. Instead I'd walked into some mad-dystopian porn- role play- fuck-fest with an obese woman with an Electra complex.
“You lied about your pictures!” I said before smacking her bottom harder.
“Sorry daddy. Can you spit in my arsehole”
I didn’t want to kill the mood but this was a bit too much for me so I improvised.
"No you’ve been too naughty. So you don’t deserve it”
“Sorry daddy”
I smacked her bottom again.
“I can only cum if you choke me”
Ahhh I was the murderer. I genuinely wished I was scrubbing my shower. I was here now. All I had to do was choke her till she came and then this would be over, I could fall asleep then leave in the morning. A black cat jumped on the bed. What was next were we going to throw the used condom in a cauldron and sacrafice the cat to the demon king Paimon.Three years waiting and I'd ended up in a low rent Eyes Wide Shut tribute fuck. I choked her. She came hard and writhed around on the bed panting.
“You are so dominat”
“Thanks. wheres the toilet”
I needed to clean my mouth out and wash my hands. Her bathroom was dirtier than mine.
But that was now lets go back two years to the start of 2018. I had put 2017 behind me and was only positive. 2017 was bad as 2018 was going to be so great. my TV show would be commissioned. Following the huge success of Snowy Fantasy world my manager AKA a guy I’d met at a gig I ran called Rats asked me if I’d like to do some more work for him. My first question was "Is it indoors?"
I had no idea what this gig was going to be like but this was my positive year so it was all good. The venue was a pub in Walthamstow. I’d never been to Walthamstow but i’d heard about a lot of people my age getting on the property ladder there. Like most places that are being gentrified you find that what is actually happening is the area is a complete dump and all the people have bought or rented there as they don’t want to pay the extra whatever a month to live near a tube station on the middle of the line. They know the place is awful but constantly need to tell you it's good so you leave the good area you live in to come and hang out in the shit area they live in that is far away. They'll try and entice you by saying things like "we've got a really good greengrocer here" As if the rest of the world doesn't have a nice greengrocer and buying a squash is a reason worth spending £6 to get on a tube and see them.
Walthomstow was no exception. When I first stepped off the tube as far as I could see it’s attempts at being a destination revolved around a Tescos Express and a Nandos. Also the pub I was going to be working at was in a bus station. I don’t remember studio 54 being a one minute walk from the N29. Hardly the weimar cabaret in 1920’s Berlin. I got to the venue and I immediately got a bad vibe, this was both visually and through smell. I evolved from being an ape so I didn't have to go out in places where you got how bad the vibe of somewhere was by smell. Honestly it looked like someone had peeled a rock back from a cave and laid a trail of raw meat leading to this pub. I’m pretty sure I saw some people walking around who didn’t have opposable thumbs. No one spoke English either in the pub or behind the bar. Was that a bus garage or Checkpoint Charlie. I was back with my Eastern European brethren, I had come full circle. The journey my grandparents had made had all been in vain. I had dragged us back to square one.
My first shift the manager came over and said "Thanks for helping us out last minute we needed a new DJ as it was getting a bit rapey in here." He finished his pitch with “don’t play any black music.” Ahh 2018, 2017 in a different hat. OK the only work I could get was socially cleansing a pub through DJ'ing. I could be the Oswald Moseley of DJ'ing or move back in with my parents. I was not in a position to make a moral stand on anything at this point at least this gig was inside. I began to play music for white people, these were not just white people these were the prototypes for white people. It was incredibly bright so you could see and smell the horror in all it's glory. I wondered why they wouldn't turn the lights off. i asked the manager. "some very violent people attend the pub and we can’t see them on the CCTV if the lights are off.” It’s hard enough for good looking people to get laid in a club with the lights off this place the clientele was so ugly I thought about DJ’ing with a blindfold on.
I was basically the first DJ anyone looking to make a fresh start in this country as a cleaner or builder would hear when they got off the boat.One night I did such a good job some Slav came over to me and offered to fit a kitchen free of charge if I ever needed it. I’m pro immigration. I want a multicultural society. Well I thought I did until I had a year of people who didn’t speak a word of English thrusting their phone in my face and telling me to play some Albanian music. A year of watching men pulling girls by their hair out of the pub and the girls being into it. A year of watching people beat the shit out of each other for no reason other than sport. A year of watching guys drink litres of beer being sick on themselves and others. I was socially cleansing the place I may as well sell some rohypnol on the side I thought. It's fine I'd be filming my sit-com in a few months this was just another stop gap. I remember one time I turned up there was blood everywhere and a bus load of police officers had pulled up, great I thought the night will be cancelled no such luck the manager came over to me
Ii’m just going to mop the blood up then can you put some Michael Jackson on."
As I stood at my decks and looked out on a scene that made a Hogarth painting look like a Monet I decided I needed a girlfriend to make this treacherous journey through life bearable. Preferably a six foot tall bodybuilder who could protect me at this pub.
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