I parked the bike in its usual space in front of my van; as usual I opened the sliding door of said van, retrieved my bike cover and tied it down. I faced the front of the house. For here on in one has to run the gauntlet, I have to negotiate 3 doors; the third is the one to my flat. Until I closed the flat door behind me, I was in Cunt territory.
The first door is never locked and makes a squeak when it’s opened, I usually squirt the hinges with WD40, I made a mental note to deal with that next time he’s out, small things like that can alert Cunt and invite conversation, well a fundamental form of it… the second door requires unlocking, it’s a nice smooth lock, door opens silently, good, good… short dash down the hall to my door, the most dangerous of all the places to be in his territory. To the left of my door is his door to the newly refurbished open plan kitchen conservatory dining area bathroom etc., to the left of that door is another door leading to his filthy little bedroom. As one is wrestling with the crappy little Yale lock to sanctuary one is aware that Cunt could pounce from 1 of 3 doors, 2 to the left of me and the entrance door behind, must, get, key, to, turn, in, lock…
The Yale lock to my flat isn’t happy, the cylinder is jerky, there is a knack that sometimes inexplicably fails, and the locks not bloody turning… I could hear footsteps, many footsteps and voices to the door directly to my left, sweet Christ… they’re getting closer. Key engaged, come on Piqued, just one more try… the voices were inches away, Christ no, I could hear Cunt do a laugh thing, 1 foot from my own face. Less? And at the very point the lock engaged, the split second the door came away from the frame, Jesus, I could smell my fucking lilies… and there they were the whole bastard family, dad, mum, Cunt, his g/f and right at the back a 6 month old baby sat looking gormless in a large Davros style pushchair with flashing lights and beeping buttons.
My heart sank, I cracked open an amateur theatrical beam and nodded inanely as the grandparents passed by. Cunt stopped and invited me into to meet the small person. British reserve required me to accept the offer and I was introduced to a tiny little bald thing that stared up at me with an expression of vague disgust. How the fuck had this happened? He was responsible for this innocent little child, how had the universe allowed this?
Small mercy, the small person didn’t look like him. I bent down to place my finger into the hand of the infant and it smiled. Jesus. It’s real. I had to get out; I had to go to my flat and rest. It was all too much to take in. I made the necessary compliments to its parents, winked at the kid and got out, my mind reeling from the consequences of the new arrival… In order to counter the shock of seeing Cunts genes I instead deliberated on how would this effect me. At least, I supposed, that Cunt won’t be playing his guitar and honking his tunes at x O Clock? Conversely, I’d be required to keep the volume down on the hi-fi. The latter wasn’t an issue as I have headphones, the former was better than getting into to bed with a pissed up Nelly Furtado. The more I thought about it the more I realised that the arrival of the small person could be a blessing.
I began to prepare supper keeping my ears open for noises downstairs, I could faintly hear the baby cry, the volume was perfectly acceptable. Even if it screamed the place down I wouldn’t be affected, ace. A close friend (with tits) was due over shortly for supper. My heart lighter than air I popped a sensational haddock, prawn and pea gratin into the oven and waited for her arrival.
I actually felt good, I felt…Fuck! I felt happy! I felt…
Oh Christ no, no.
All of a sudden this hideous groaning honk complete with epileptic guitar twunged from beneath my feet, I hadn’t reckoned on this, not him performing to the small person. In between the coos and laughs I could just about identify ‘Californication’. Or was it? My poor ears strained to hear key lyrics, or at least something that sounded like it…”First born unicorn, Hard core soft porn”. Yes, he was singing Californication to child of 6 months old.
Christ help all of us, whatever your denomination pray for the small person. Hope is all we have.
