The incredible egg: Part I

I am ridiculous enough to require reminding that all kinds of relationship between people are complex, nuanced and wedged into context. Everybody knows all the stories have already been told but that's different from living inside them. There's space for limbo inside your plot points, room for a chair, a bed, a bookcase and a bucket. I've been walking inside one all day pacing from wall to wall pressing my face against the glass. I am beginning to blame Tex Perkins.

The first time I arranged with Superman to meet somewhere I honestly did not care whether he showed up, canceled or simply failed to materialise and I wish, some of the time, to return to that point of independence because Superman has gone away.

In his leaving Superman has impressed twelve separate impressions at once like a multi-faced cookie cutter madly rotating through Christmas shapes, gingerbread men and animals. We went to see Black Francis at The Metro which is tolerable so long as you don't go outside and stand like an island in the flow of people that illustrate your difference and isolation.

Superman was unexpectedly and abominably rude to a man both of us are acquainted with but do not know. The man did not appear to feel the barbs. It was the worst kind of rude, the veiled, coded, intellectual equivalent of dropping poison into a goblet. My level of discomfort was such that I was ashamed of him and wish that I had walked away instead of attempting to summon trapdoors, loud interruptions or the clarity of thought whilst drunk to do something to stop it. I am equally ashamed of myself for not discussing this with Superman the next morning when I was weary and worse for wear but sober.

Foto was there and I quickly tired of the dynamics between him and Superman. They have the kind of friendship that seems to require them to adopt the roles of commanding and fearless private philosophers, each questioning the other's every thought, action and deed from a safe and lofty perch marked benevolence.

I did not enjoy the concert but it wasn't because of the music. Foto moved out into the foyer and was later joined by Superman. I was left standing down on the floor looking over my shoulder wondering where everybody had gone. Superman was, he assured me, about to come and find me. Foto declared that he would not go back in and I thought then that Foto must consume art like it was television but immediately blamed this on a mid-week dinner because I was remembering Foto's disparaging remarks about a woman. She had her wrists tattooed, I stared down at my plate while Foto expressed his disgust that she had had to wear bandages on her wrists for two weeks, "like a person that had slashed their wrists". I stared down at my plate and held my hands in my lap to hide the very old and faded but undeniably visible scars.

We drank more and more until we were in some fluorescent burger shop then a taxi and my eyes were closed and motion strange and exaggerated. Foto declared that we should take the taxi to the station and walk our separate ways. It rained as we walked and it was not unpleasant but for the ridiculous and as yet unfounded thought that this was the last time I would see Superman.

I stared at the back of Superman's head first thing the next morning and thought of nothing but rolling over and regaining the grace of sleep until I remembered that he was leaving and I became furious at myself for allowing the sight of Superman and the cat curled in sleep to become as Saturday as newspapers.

To be continued.

Comments

Anonymous said…
sending masses of pink fluffy in return for astounding eloquence
DS said…
I thank you for your pink fluffy kindness.
Anonymous said…
Hmmm... perhaps Superman will come back a little less temperamental and all will be well?
DS said…
I am quite certain that all will be well.
Anonymous said…
Haha - speaking of goblets and poison, nice one Cam. Always got my back, don't you? Go on though, ignore this. I'm probably being temperamental again.

I am still alive, you know Dale! And they have internet access up here...

I was quite rude to that chap, wasn't I? I did it deliberately, because I dislike him. He once made somebody who was very close to me feel very uncomfortable in a particularly sleazy way. I'd rather not watch him do it to another person I care about. Still, I'll admit that such snide revenge wasn't my high point - even though the main thing I did was give him a spade and let him dig his own hole.

Foto and I are well used to each other. We are different but each serve to keep the other's head above water in our own way. The dynamic that you grew tired of you do not understand. Did you intend your paragragh on us to read with the kind of tone that it does?

This piece feels like an attack on me, intentional or no. Why? It's interesting to note that it is the first time Cam has addressed the fact that I exist in this context. Coincidence?

You knew I was leaving, and you know why I had to. Attacking me as I do so seems like a strange way to deal with it. You might consider wishing me luck instead. Coming here was a tremendously difficult and important decision for me.

What exactly was it that I did to you to you do deserve this portrait? I rather think you missed my better side.
DS said…
I am surprised that you feel that you are being attacked, quite surprised indeed.
Gemnastics said…
where has superman gone?
DS said…
I'll send you an email.
DS said…
All misunderstandings with Superman have been sorted out. This has been a public service announcement.