Nuclei XI

As I entered my favourite hangout The Norwegian Blue, my eyes fell on my old friend Mannox sitting in the corner under a potted palm. His hair looked undomesticated and he wore a dirty faded black t-shirt with “Big Deal” written on it. He hung over a table like a dead slug.

The poor bastard looked even wearier and beat down than normal. ‘So… !’ I shouted, ‘and how are we feeling today… did life tear you a new one again, boyo skip me ol' matey?’ Cheerfulness is an exquisite type of cruelty.

Mannox looked up and gave me one of his blowtorch stares. ‘I went out yesterday,’ he said, ‘with people… two women.’ ‘Bad company?’ I asked. ‘Worse! They were simply sublime! Wonderful, lovely people… well adjusted, hip, fun-seeking, enjoying every second of their life, laughing all the way ho ho ho! Oh gawd!’

I nodded and looked around for a waitress.