Slowly, I scraped myself out of bed, my alarm piercing my ears at a ridiculous hour of day; well 9am. But for me, it was early. After all it was Sunday, and as mother always said to me: “Sunday is for those folk who need an extra day t’do nowt.”
Wise woman my mother, if not slightly deranged.
I was living with my best friend Stuart, but relying on him to awake me in the morning was never the smartest thing to do bearing in mind every girl in the area wanted him, if not had him, and he would usually be occupied with a young lady during the weekend. I’d usually waltz into the kitchen to see an unidentifiable young girl in his shirt and boxers, helping herself to my coffee in my mug and my toast and my peanut butter on my plate. Don’t get me wrong, he was a hard working, lovely and pretty hot guy with his groovy brown hair, tanned skin and deep brown eyes, but when he lets loose, he had the tendency to let everything loose. Literally. But what can I say? He’s a 24-year-old boy, and has everything to live for.
My bed was too warm for me leave. It was early spring and the heating had not been turned on when Stuart stumbled in from wherever he was last night - assuming of course he returned home - so it there was a firm chill in the air. Stuart’s not really that much of a get around. Just enjoyed his life and freedom while he could. I got out my laptop and signed into Facebook, just to have a look and with any luck lose track of time before I had to enter the real world and actually do something that may have an impact in my life. No one loved me online. With any luck, thing’s would be different outside the internet.
Sadly, I was wrong. As usual, in my kitchen was a pretty, thin, tanned girl, with the “just-out-of-bed-look” disgustingly pulled off: her hair wavy and ruffled, her make up only slightly smudged, if anything defining her blue eyes more. And yes, she was drinking my coffee, eating my toast. I doubt she even noticed my presence – even if she had walked past me twice – and she sauntered around as if she had no idea Stuart even lived with anyone, let alone a female. She slumped herself down at my breakfast bar, slowly chewing my food as if she had no energy at all. Clearly, her extra curricular activities last night must have sucked the best out of her – no pun intended- however she seemed silently content. Content in a completely lifeless, exhausted sense, if that be possible. Then lo and behold, the King of the Bed scuffled into the kitchen, and seemed somewhat shocked at my presence. Well, I guess it was better than not noticing me at all.
“Mornin’ sunshine. Good night?” I chuckled. This was routine now, yet I still found it hilarious.
“Umm. Yes. Thanks. Make us a coffee please doll?” Oh my, he was the one who had let yet another girl into the flat, and still expected me to do stuff for him. What a charmer my best friend was.
“Or not, Stu. Why don’t you ask...” I gestured for him to give me the name of the unspoken maiden, but surprisingly enough, Stuart didn’t even remember/know her name; no-one would ever be sure of which one was the more accurate. He was clueless, so I felt the nicest thing to do (completely in the interest of the lady who had landed in my home) was to introduce myself, knowing that this would either scare her into thinking his girlfriend had turned up and found her or make her think she spent the night with a size 10 lesbian. Either way I was sure to get another giggle at Stuart’s expense.
“Hi there. Please, remind me of your name again? Or do I not know you?” and that point, she froze. Oh, how I was laughing on the inside, and smirking on the out. And just before anything could roll off my unusually evil tongue, Stuart intervened, covering my mouth in the mean time,
“This, Katie, my dear, dear friend, is, umm..”
“Tiffany? –“
“Tiffany! Right. See, Tiffany. Anyway, coffee. Coffee, yes.” Wow. The boy was so uncool as he mumbled to himself. And the poor girl was once again sat there, silent, eating my food and drinking my coffee.
It was approaching the hour of one, and I’d still not managed to find the energy to remove myself from the house. Tiffany had vanished in the time it took me to go get my phone from my room. Blimey, that girl was a quick’un. And since her departure, Stuart had been sent to Spar to get me a Diet Coke (which it would appear Tiffany had swiped at her own accord) and a Heat magazine. After all, it seemed only his duty to repay me seeing as it was his “bit of fun” that took mine in the first place. I was planning to go out later for a drink at the local, but then a certain banging on the door interrupted my plan. They were battering my door hard, and even after shouting at them repeatedly “I’ve told you before! No-one’s in!” the mighty door-batterer persisted to cause permanent damage to my front door. I eventually managed to get irritated enough to answer my bruised door and it was the most annoying person in my life; the old fart from three flats across, Mr Polger. He never liked us “younger ones” to use his name; we weren’t that young – we were in our twenties – but apparently, when he was our age that was showing respect. I’m not a rude person, but I tried to explain to him how times have changed, and it was still respectful if I was to call him Leslie, and that just started another dispute concerning how I knew his Christian name. And on that note, I avoided him at all costs. However now, this was an inexcusable circumstance. There had been an tragic event occur within the block.
“There has been an emergency meeting called, young Katie, and I’m sure that you and your partner –“
“- Friend.”
“Oh, my apologises. I’m sure you and your “friend” will be turning up to show your support. 7 o’clock Miss Johnson. Don’t be late.” Tosser.
“But I –“
“See you there!” His annoyingly cheerful, yet patronising tone made me want to jump out my flat window, but I was too considerate to the people who’d have to clean me up after. So I just lived with it; embraced it if you like. Nevertheless, he was an irritating, half-demented fool. Everyone knows one. Mine just happens to live slightly too close to me.
I’d managed to leave the flat in a mess, in a bid for Stuart to get off his lazy arse and do something. Even though the chances were slim, I still had a tiny bit of faith in him; tiny, but it was still there all the same. I’d decided I’d go down to Woolworths and get a birthday card and yet another coffee mug for father. It was his birthday on Tuesday, and for the past 7 years I hadn’t lived at home, I’d forgotten by about a week and a half. This year, however, I was determined not to. I was going to do well this year – it was my new year’s resolution to remember important things – and I was doing well. It was only March, but this alone was an almighty achievement. I found a mug saying “World’s Greatest Dad”. Thank the good lord above. I could finally get my dad a present and card and have it sent to him before it was too late. Score.
Nipped into Tesco Express, knowing that I’d be eating alone tonight. Again. Bloody Stuart. I should charge him personal rent for popping in now and then for a kip or a square meal. Or to bring yet another girl home. Good grief. I had got my microwave bacon and mushroom risotto, accompanied by a rather large tub of Ben and Jerry’s cookie dough ice cream and a 4 pack of hot chocolate powder. Perfect. I was used to spending evenings alone, so I knew exactly what I was doing.
I had just managed to climb the almighty number of stairs to climb to get to the fourth floor seeing as the lift was permanently out of order, I was stopped yet again by Mr Polger, who had managed to attack me with his formidable pounce. Prat.
“Ahh, Miss Kathryn – “
“- Katie”
“Miss Katie, I see that as you have managed to get up and dressed and out, so I do trust you will have no reason to not make an appearance at the meeting tonight then.“
“No, I think Stuart is going instead” she smirked. Stuart wasn’t going anywhere with girls tonight. “I can’t afford to miss the Antiques Roadshow tonight. They’re going all the way to Bath!” And my sarcasm flew over his head. Bingo. Well, it would have been if I had not got a detailed summary of the past 25 years of the programme, of which I had no interest in whatsoever.
“Yes,” I so rudely interrupted, “I must leave you. I need to make dinner and feed my 12 secret children before it starts. Ciao.”
And on that witty note, I left.
I strolled smiling into the flat, because I simply found myself hilarious. Well, making Polger all that more confused was. He was such a fool. I was humming the theme to One Tree Hill to myself and to my horror; I found the sight I should have expected: Stu asleep on the sofa. Gah, he was so irritating. I was feeling that funny and cunning, that I thought I’d teach him a lesson. Bending down, I whispered into his available ear in a somewhat sultry voice “Hey big boy” I almost burst into laughter there and then, “Would you like to come explore with me”
“Yearrgghhss” He mumbled. Oh my, I was on the edge of breaking down laughing.
“Good. Cause I’m a lonely explorer. Want to follow me?” Wow. My deep voice was shocking suspicious.
“Mmmmms” He turned over and grabbed me. In his sleep. Oh, now I was screwed.
“Right, well, this way... big boy”
And then he kissed me.
And then I hit him with the cat.
“Get up you moron! Look at this place! You’ve done nothing! Such a waste of space.” I moaned, irritated at his annoying attitude. Gosh, I was turning into my mother. He started shuffling papers on the coffee table, in a fatigued panic.
“Oh, no point doing it now. You’ve got an hour or so til you’re needed at Leslie’s.”
“What?!” his shock satisfied me greatly by no means.
“Yes, flat meeting. There’s been an emergency!” I tried to make it sound interesting, but it really wasn’t good enough.
“You can go, can’t you?” I just looked at him disapprovingly. Now he was going to beg me.
“Please, Katie, please. You’ll be my best friend for ever and ever and - ”
“What shit, Stu. Now, get ready. I don’t think they like topless young males in union jack boxers.”
Well, the grannies might.
I ended up going to the shit meeting with Stuart. It was because someone had moved Leslie’s dog basket that was outside his front door to next to his front door. And this was an ongoing crime. A tragic affair. A constant wrecking of someone’s happiness. I think not. Stu and I and every other unfortunate just sat there zoned out, not really giving a shit. We all ate his food and drank all his drink, then it was over and we all left content.
Shuffle shuffle, mumble mumble. As we walked up towards our flat, there was a distinct stench hanging in the cold air. Then was saw Lucas - the most retarded cat you will ever hear of – purring outside our door. And he had peed and pooed everywhere. This night couldn’t get much worse.
“Stu. Grab the cat and run” I whispered, acting like a ninja.
“Run where” he was whispering also, even though he wasn’t sure why.
“In the dungeon”
“What dungeon?”
“House you moron” I’d given up on my inner ninja self by now. It was useless. He was useless.
Cat was in the sink, Stuart was in the kitchen and I was in the lounge. I would say “Everything was perfect”, but I was on the phone to my cousin. How do I describe my irritating, mouthy, spoilt cousin Jess? Well, she was irritating, incredibly mouthy and disgustingly spoilt. Normally she’d sit and talk about how everything in her life was perfect: boyfriend, job, house, lifestyle, car.
I really actually hate her sometimes.
She worked as a PA for her “boss who is fit as” – her boyfriend. He was alright, I guess. Loaded, that’s probably what attracted her. Their living area was about the size of the flat, so that gave you an idea of how big their house was. I’d describe the car, but you’d have to tell me which one you’d want to know about.
Today, however, she was telling me how she had a huge party that was going to be “slammin’.” I kid you not; the girl was in such a world of her own.
“Yeah, and Franz Ferdinand are going to be doing the music and everything. Oh em gee, it’s going to be so good.”
“Great. It sounds so much better than a tea party at grandma’s.” I really wasn’t interested. Why couldn’t she leave me alone?
“Yeah, it’s so totally awesome..” and then she slipped into a bizarre American accent.
“Jess. What the heck are you doing?” I was so confused.
“What? I’ve not like, done anything.”
“Jess don’t call me back. You’re boring me. Talk soon sweet.”
And on that note, I hung up.
I got a text about 15 minutes later from Jess saying “Soz, I was in a good mood and forgot to tell you. I sent you something Friday. Be there 2morrow. Love ya xx”
She sent me something? How suspicious.
