It would have been a picture-perfect moment, had I not seethed with angry arousal, nor lacked a suitably hygienic ‘pocket’ with which to stash my phone. Chasity had fallen asleep with her face smooshed against the saliva smeared window. Tendrils of spit fanned outwards like a cinematic splash of water, displaced by the rumbling rasp of her syrupy snores. The sound conjuring the illusion of a steam train choking on the last dregs of water as it painfully limped along the tracks.
A phone call in the early hours of the morning is a painful, bewildering experience that will very rarely have a happy conclusion. Similar, in fact, to placing your penis within the lubricated nozzle of a vacuum cleaner before gingerly tapping the ‘on’ button with your foot. If only to see what all the fuss was about.
A light misting of joyful drizzle swept the rain-slick streets in waves, gradually washing away indiscriminate puddles of overindulgence as it gurgled through the gutters like perverse laughter. Caught in a sigh of wind, rain danced and billowed through the neon haze of pink and blue, forcing Chasity to avert her gaze from the gaudy spectacle.
Bickering, name-calling, malignant breast fondling and the aggressive brandishing of a dainty handbag heralded the tumultuous and rather public departure of a struggling Francesca from the dance floor. Dragged away from the riotous hen party by her beloved sparkly angel wings, miraculously surviving the Kobold’s antics throughout the evening. Now the flamboyant accessories were a twisted mess of silver and pink tinsel with the pretentious air of abstract art.
Blue haze rolled out from the crowded smoking shelter in its pursuit to pollute the brisk night air. Granted, there were only two people in what appeared to be an old, repurposed bus shelter still scarred with badly spelt graffiti, but Danielle and Chasity could take up a fair bit of room if they set their mind to it. Both suffered the unenviable ability to inadvertently repel people, like sharks swimming through a school of fish. Handy when walking down the street, but a pain in the arse when you wished to socialise.
Watching Chasity during her drunken antics always reminded Danielle of being at the zoo. An animal trying to crack open a coconut to get at the sweet flesh inside when the only tool at her disposal was an evolutionary predisposition for brute force, and an inability to think her way around an obstacle that didn’t include a larger rock.