Studs and Stilettos

Lesson 4 - try Chardonnay and bathwater as anaesthetics

I'm back in the safety of the bathroom, simmering like a boiled pudding in the scalding water. Tonight, I've got a bottle of wine and a spare resting on the rim of the bath. I could easily down these two and put my head under the water and end my miserable life in the oblivion of water world.

There's a tiny tap on the door.

I ignore it. I don't want to talk to anyone. If Pippa wants her rent then she will have to pray to the non-benevolent God that he will work a miracle and send it by post on my behalf because its surely not going to be earned by me. What am I thinking of? I can't teach. I am certainly not built for crowd control and I have no idea what goes on inside the head of the average male adolescent which makes them find weird things so...amusing. Why would anyone want to mud wrestle a sixteen stone wall of muscle and flesh, get kicked in the groin and have one's scapula dislocated just because he's got a ball that doesn't bounce anyway?

'Go away!'

More tapping suggests there's a manic woodpecker waiting to use the facilities in this bathroom?

Brutus puts his blonde spikey head round the door.

'Hey.' He whispers

'Hey what?'

'Hey...two bottles tonight....'

The door opens more than a crack and Brutus sidles in as if he is disturbing someone elsewhere in the flat rather than just blatantly trying to pussy foot round me.

'Whaddduwont?'

Brutus creeps forward in case one of the mines implanted in the bathroom floor explodes under his footfall and sidles towards the toilet. Now I see why. He's got the hideous Samantha wrapped like a fur collar round his neck and the evil dog is pretending to be asleep.

Brutus lowers himself onto the toilet seat and points noiselessly to the hound.

'Didn't want to wake the poor luvvy,' he whispers. 'She's had a bit of a rough day. The golden retriever at number four.' Two eyebrows raised skyward tell me more than I ever wanted to know. 'Needs her beauty sleep.'

Samantha, of course, is not asleep. She sees my slitting eyes and responds with a curl of the muzzle exposing a large yellow fang.

'Brutus! Don't be an ass. She's not asleep and she's 'smiling, at me in the warm loving way that she has with members of the human race who see her for what she really is.'

'Oh, goodie. That means I can go and get a cocktail and join you.'

'You're not getting in this bath with me!' I yell towards the retreating back. Samantha has been plonked on the pinky fluffy bog seat and isn't looking quite as confident now that she's alone with the person who regularly pushes her off the sofa.

'You evil daughter of Satan!' I hiss, eyes like Damien from The Exorcist. 'If anything happens to him, you're dead meat you shifty bad-tempered salami shaped bag of pus. Either that or I'll send you to be a Hearing Dog for the Deaf...make you earn a living instead of ponsing round in that diamond studded pink collar with a whoofter at the other end of your lead.' Samantha sits upright, lifts her tail and starts to drag her anus in a circular motion over the once pink – now brown - tufts. It's another of her endearing little traits.

'Stoppitt!' I hiss chucking a sponge bob square pants sponge loaded with foam.

Samantha has given up on the snarl. Her ears flatten against her miniscule skull and she starts to tremble.

'Ah. not so brave now are you...you tick and louse infested lard sculpture with all the aroma of an overfilled cesspit....'

'What was that? Making friends with Sammie at last?' Brutus is carrying a sundae glass full of pink liquid with an umbrella, three cherries and a curly wurly. 'You see...Sammy has so much to give, if only you are willing to receive it. Oh my God!!!' Brutus grabs his nose and I slide under the water as Samantha lets rip the only thing she's any good at: hydrogen sulphide gas production, fresh from her fermentation chamber.

'So....'

'So, what!' I snap'

'So how was day one?' Brutus slurps his cocktail and strokes Samantha's short brown stubble.

'I don't want to talk about it.... Ever!'

'Ah!'

'How was your day?'

Brutus is third girl in our flat. He's the sweetest, kindest, most generous sort particularly when it comes to dumb animals. That's why we've had a long string of Samantha type runts foisted on us. The last one, a Great Dane called Isobel was so in love with Brutus she crushed the poor luvvy under her massive body trying to mount him and had to be tranquilised by the vet with a dart gun. I don't really want to remember Cybille the kitten who found her way inside the dishwasher casing: it was me who pushed the button on her 'electric chair' and we only discovered her corpse because the smell of singed hair and decomposing flesh got so bad in the heat of last summer.

'I've sold three appliances already this week.' Brutus admires his reflection in the steamy mirror, touching up the lip gloss from his pocket dispenser. If he sits in here much longer, his mascara will run. Brutus flutters his long lashes and one of them drops into the bath.

'AAAAAaaaaaaagh!' I shoot out of the water clutching the wine bottle and shower curtain. 'Get that spider off me.'

'Calm down dearie. It's just one of my falsies. Ooooh...if I were a real man, I couldn't half fancy your bod.' Brutus has his hands in my water groping round for the lash until I put my foot in his face and shove him out of my territory.

'How can you sell vacuum cleaners door to door?' I gurgle between slurps of now bath warm Chardonnay. 'People go to Curry's or Comet or Argos on-line when they want electrical appliances.'

'Ah, well, these are special. With a wide variety of nozzles of every size to fit all shapes and sizes. The attachments are what make my appliances unique. There's the Velcro brush for rough jobs and a silky duster for more delicate work and....one can select five different suck and blow options, depending upon the situation.'

'It sounds like you're selling some sort of weirdo sex toys Brutus, not your regular carpet critter delousing device.'

Brutus does that coy little head wobble that's a real give away when he's been found telling porkies and concentrates on stroking his canine rat.

'They are sex toys aren't they... you dirty little.... Who the hell buys them?'

The head wobble gets wobblier and Brutus sucks his lips in.

'Lonely househusbands I suppose.' The bottle of Chardonnay is almost empty. I must have downed more than half in the last swig.

'Let's hope Pippa doesn't get to find out. She has to fix appliance damaged body parts in A and E.'

'You won't tell on me will you Cams?'

'Hmmmmm. Maybe or maybe not. I'll have to think about it. But I would like a demonstration of one of these devices – we could try it on the lovely Samantha. Do you think she would prefer the suck or blow option?'

Brutus tosses his head, tucks the diamante-clad bitch under his arm and stomps out.