Twist 3

THREE Saturday night rolled around. The phone had started ringing in the afternoon- male friends asking him to come out boozing in the usual haunts, a female Platonic friend called to ask him to come out boozing in the Irish pub and Justyna, whom he saw as potential, called. He decided, against his usual inclinations, to go with Justyna. He was loyal to his mates on Saturday evenings, usually. He saw no reason not to be. Most of the females who would have liked him to come out on Saturday were either not interesting to him or not interested in sleeping with him. Justyna was something else. She was interesting, and quite possibly interested in coming to bed. He met her outside a club. She looked modelesque in her leather jacket, her sparkling moist make-up, her black pumps and her six feet of stature. She was smiling broadly when she met Steve. He took her in his arms and planted a kiss upon her cheek. This made him feel better inside, like he’d achieved a small victory. The club was small and packed with 20 year old women who were with men that were twice their age or more. Steve knew that he couldn’t compete with these men, the majority of whom were anglophone, on wealth and status, but he might have an edge on looks and style. He danced with Justyna to a few of the boppy numbers, then took her outside into the warm night and next door to a more cosy place for a quiet drink and conversation. He sipped his whisky and sucked back at his cigarillo, taking long glances at his companion, and shorter glimpses of the street outside. The streets were wet, the way he liked to see big-city streets. Big cities, he thought, seemed to be at their most beautiful when soaked in rain at night. At this moment the city seemed to shimmer with erotic charge. He reached across the table, placing his hand in hers. “Do you want to go back down to that club?” “Hmmm.” “Let’s get in a taxi. I’ve got a really nice bottle of Australian wine back at my place.” “Well…” “______” “OK.” They stepped out onto the wet pavement. Taxis were waiting outside, sharks cruising through the night. Steve climbed into the back seat with Justyna and gave the orders. Back at Steve’s place the wine was opened and poured. “Good?” “Nice. I never had Australian wine before.” “It’s rare here, and it costs, I don’t know why.” “It is far to Australia.” “Not far to London- and Aussie wines are a lot cheaper there than here.” “Are they?” “Oh yeah. Popular too. Everyone’s drinking Australians there. The French have been pushed right off the shelf. They say the French wine industry is in crisis because of it. Can’t export anything anymore. New world wines are taking over. Serves the arrogant French right for lording it over us for so long.” “Lording it over us?” Being so arrogant.” Yes, they are arrogant. I know the French.” “Justyna the supermodel. Queen of the Paris catwalks.” “Ha ha ha. I’m 23. I’m like Grandma with those girls in Paris.” “But you’ve walked down the catwalks in Paris.” “It was completely crazy. I thought I will go mad.” “I think that every day about myself.” “But you never had to walk down a catwalk in Paris.” “Lucky me. But you didn’t have to do it either. Nobody had a gun to your head.” “Money is like a gun.” “Money is a gun.” “So you see I had to.” “Yeah yeah.” “Fuck Paris. Here’s to Australia and its fine fine wines.” “Cheers.” “Bottoms up.” He kissed her and walked her to the bed. They fell down and tore at each other’s clothes. In the morning he looked at her as she slept. She had that look- harsh. Her face was taught and gaunt now the make-up was stripped back. She’d spent too much time tanning herself. Tanned to the point of frying. What were they thinking? He crawled out of bed and had a shower. By the time he was out of the shower she was up. He made her some breakfast and coffee. She was talkative- chatty chat chat. Steve was despondent. If she had any sense of his growing unease she didn’t show it to him. She kept smiling and chatting, eating and drinking. He flipped on the TV to MTV to distract himself from her, to give them both something other than each other to focus on. About an hour later she left, much to Steve’s relief. As soon as she was out the door he got on the phone. “Jim. Steve.” “Steve. How are ya?” “Have a guess who I fucked last night?” “Ahhm, you girlfriend Ewa maybe. That’d be a change wouldn’t it?” “You think yer so funny, ha ha. Now take another guess, buttwipe.” “Maybe….that fat ugly British teacher you been hanging around with too much lately. “Nup. Not seeing her so much now.” “Some Polish slut that you met in a club?” “Nope.” “Who then?” “Let’s meet for coffee and talk it over.” “Sure bub.” Coffee later that day was at San Marzano, a British-based, Italian- style chain restaurant that had opened up at the end of the street on Pulawska. Steve arrived early although he knew that Jim would be late. This never deterred him from turning up early. Being early all the time was just another of Steve’s bad habits. He was onto his second coffee when Jim arrived. Jim was an exceptionally loud-mouthed American, who had no qualms when it came to talking about pussy in public. This sometimes made Steve wince, if he thought there was English-speaking company nearby. At other times it just brought out the animal in Steve, for whatever Steve said, Jim was sure to say something even more outrageous. Jim swaggered in, a few minutes late as usual. This never really bothered Steve too much, although he usually detested lateness, he had come to expect it in Jim. “So, who the fuck was she, man?” Jim said as he sat down at the table. “You remember Justyna?” Said Steve. “Yeah sure.” “Well, that’s who, baby.” “Hmm, she was alright wasn’t she?” “Yeah. Very alright.” “Cool. You going to see her again?” “Don’t know if I really want to.” “Yeah? How does that work?” “She’s got a few issues. She looks worn out and dried out at the age of 24. It isn’t nice, you know? “I see. But she’s nice in bed isn’t she?” “Yeah she’s real nice. But I’d prefer a relationship. I mean, someone I can actually live with.” “Ain’t you already got one of those?” “I live with her, that doesn’t mean I can live with her. I gotta find something, someone different.” “Good luck man” “I can’t believe you’re still avoiding it like the plague. What are you waiting for?” “Nothing but the best.” “Like that’ll get you anywhere. Perfect don’t exist. Specially not in females.” “Why settle for crap?” “If you’re too fussy you’ll never get a fuck is my philosophy.” “Anyway, how’s the wife?” “Still up the country.” “Will you go see her?” “Yeah, maybe next weekend. Don’t know really. I’m not in a big hurry you know?” “Not when you’re up to your balls in poontang here, I’d say?” “Would ya? Thanks mate.” Steve lit up a cigarette and blew out three perfectly formed smoke rings. Looking at Jim with all his stinking bravado, he was glad not to be like him. A lot of people didn’t like Jim. They said he was a crass, brash, ignorant Yank, and Steve tended to agree with them. Steve liked him anyway, although he usually didn’t go around advertising the fact. They moved out of San Marzano to Szpilka, a fashionable bar in the centre of Warsaw. There they met Marek, who was in some ways even more objectionable than Jim. Marek claimed to have travelled to all sorts of places, to have been a smuggler of gold from Singapore to India. He said he’d been with whores in Bombay. The stories somehow had a ring of truth to them, as he wasn’t one of those people who said he’d been everywhere, just a few specific locations. He behaved like an accomplished hustler in some ways, though he was just a little too obvious. He had a falsetto way of imitating American brashness that certain East Europeans had. When they did this they tended to go completely over the top. The Poles were usually a quite reserved race of people, but for some, a little dose of America or Americans was all that was needed to send them over the edge. Steve parted from the bar several hours later in a state of heavy intoxication. He staggered back home and opened the fridge, thinking to soak up the alcohol with food, juice and water. He collapsed on the bed after that and lit a cigarette and flipped his way through the TV channels.