I woke up in a haze, eyes all puffy and the little-man-with-a-hammer in my head was back again. Lovely. I checked the time and realised I should have been at work 9 minutes ago. Lovely. I smell of Raki, from the night before. Lovely.
By the time I have a shower, iron my shirt, slab on some make-up and hit the door its 9.30. Literally hit the door as in, I tried to fling it open unaware of how much power I had putting into it, it flung in my direction with speed, I having forgot to move out of the way got in the way of the door. Lovely.
After checking on the girls sleeping in the living room one last time, I left the house totally envious of their dreamy expressions.
The cab driver was an annoying bastard who wanted to take his time, I think he also enjoyed not using his brain cells, every time I asked to turn into somewhere I had repeat myself about 10 times. I didn’t like him.
28.50 Turkish Liras later I was at work. I hopped and skipped around people I wanted to avoid and got into the office.
After my morning tea, simit and milk, I didn’t feel any better. I actually felt worse. Lovely.
I must add however, last night was good. I meet up with a dear friend I used to work and socialise with back in London. She’s a tall girl, a boyish girl who is only interested in girls, guys are nothing but mates to her, she doesn’t have a sense of smell so she keeps prodding me to describe the smell of things, she always has done but the best thing about this woman is that she knows love. Conversation was bliss as it wasn’t about the battle of genders and stereotypes but rather one about desires and dreams. We spoke of lovers we desired and those we didn’t, spoke about good and bad food eaten at the best and worst places and we dwelled on food we could cook for our lovers.
I wanted most to cook for him at home while dancing to old Turkish nostalgic music and using the fresh groceries I had brought just for him. Extravagant, huh?
Anyway, my friend considers herself un-gendered. She argues she has no desire to be one or the other. ‘I’m a human first…’ she says, ‘and I enjoy sleeping with girls, it’s that simple, it’s my preference.’
She does however dress more like a guy than a girl but that’s, she says, is because she prefers being casually dressed and a cross between comfortable and no gender was summer shorts, no bra, and basic T-shirt with a short sleeve shirt for her last night.
After sharing old and new gossip, we danced, sang along with street musicians. I got tipsier by the minute. Just before leaving the lovely girls staying at mine, joined us. I think me and my-boyish-friend gave them a bit of a head bashing about not wasting their youthful years. Poor girls, stuck with two drunkens, talking about life. Knowing these girls I guess I always knew they could put up with my tipsy language. Bless ‘em.
Just before I get back to work, I must add that my-boyish-friend never, ever misses an opportunity to buy a woman flowers. ‘All women deserve flowers…’ she says ‘I never need an excuse to buy them.’ This woman has never met me without flowers, I am yet to find a man to out-run her with flowers she has brought me over the years.