The door to Milly’s house was never locked, the lights were always on and there was always someone at home; granted they weren’t always conscious, but they still served as a familiar welcome.
The odour was the first thing that hit you when you entered the house. The foul mix of stale cigarettes, damp carpet and singed hair never ceased to amaze me with its consistency and longevity. It was probably the only stable thing in this house. The residents changed with the frequency of Zimbabwean currency. Her most recent housemate up and left in a fit of rage after Milly passed-out in the bath with the taps running and flooded most of the house. There was no way she could pay the rent on her own so she resorted to letting her dealer move in. She owed him so much money that she now had to help him shift gear and put up with dead-shits knocking on the door 24/7.
The main corridor was lined with huge stacks of cardboard boxes filled with flyers for various gigs around town. Somewhere along the way someone had taken on the job of distribution and then ditched the flyers once they’d been paid. Milly was convinced she was sitting on a goldmine; she was just waiting for a paper shortage to realise her investment.
Walking through the house I felt a familiar repulsion at the soggy carpet, the gaping holes in the walls and the sagging ceiling; but at the same time I knew it was a perverse curiosity that kept me coming back, to see just how decrepit this old house would get.
“JOHNNY!PINKS!AHHHHHHH! Iloveyouguys!!!!” screamed Milly in a high pitched squawk as we entered the living room. She jumped off the couch, with her pink satin dressing gown flowing off her shoulders, revealing the red slip she was wearing underneath. I had always imagined that Milly had been a looker in her teens, I could see her being a sixteen year old tease who learned, early on, the power a bit of cleavage had on men. This power was very real, but unfortunately it tended to warp a woman as she got older and her body sagged. It left a gaping hole where self respect should have been.
The coffee table was strewn with overflowing ash trays, half empty cups of coffee and a mirror with traces of what i suspected was speed, Milly’s drug of choice.
She bounded into me with an emphatic embrace. After a quick peck on the cheek she dashed past me and jumped up to grab Pinks around the neck.
Without missing a beat she dashed back to the couch started rolling a cigarette while flicking through the channels on the TV in an impressive flurry of coordination.
“SoTriggerislivingwithmenowhey,didyouguyshearthat,he’skindofadick,
buthepayshisrent,hisfriendsarerudefuckersbutthere’salwaysplentyofgoey,youguyswantsome,
IjustgotmystimuluspackagemoneyandTriggerisofferingaRud8balldeal,$1800foran8ball,
youjustgottafindsomeonetogohalves.Howgoodisit,900bucksjustforbeingAussie,
finallywe’vegotacoolPrimeMinister!” Milly’s words came out in a violent flurry, a verbal onslaught that was exhausting to take in.
“Come on Milly you can’t be serious, the stimulus package is nothing but an irresponsible clamber for popularity.” I countered.
“You’realwayssoseriousJohnny,itsfreecash,justenjoyit.” Milly giggled.
“Fuck off Milly this is our nations future we’re talking about here, this shit IS serious. Throwing cash at people is hardly the most responsible way to stimulate the economy, I mean look at how your spending it, its gonna go straight into the black market. I’ll probably save mine and spend it overseas; and Pinks here will drop his on one of the good-time-boys who hang around in kings Cross.” i said with a laugh in Pinks’ direction.
“Hey fuck you buddy, i’ll shove a stimulus package up your ass if you don’t shut up.” laughed Pinks
“All i’m saying is this will only give our economy the briefest of relief and then we’ll be burdened with debt for the next decade. Why couldn’t they just come up with a long list of useless investments and pump money into them. The least they could do is put some limits on what people can buy with the cash. Limit it to solar panels and push bikes and books for university and clothes for your kids.” I argued.
“Fuckyou’reaboringmotherfucker” said Milly as she shuffled speed around a mirror. “We’vegotapileofwhizzherepaidforbyKevinandyou’recomplaining
abouttheGovernmentseconomicmanagement,lightenup.”
squawked Milly.
“You’re so short-sighted, the government should be investing in the future, not thowing money at idiots like us who’ll just blow it on a big weekend.” I moaned. “But hey, the damage has been done, lets get into it.”
“I second that” mumbled Pinks.
“Hey Milly, you’re never gonna beleive what happened to us on our way here….!”
To be continued….
Another great post, I’m hooked.